


Revelation

by LadyIrina



Series: Corruption and Redemption [4]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Pining, Theseus is too nice, man-smut, old trauma emerges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-10-18 03:47:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 55,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10608648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina
Summary: A new life in England means new challenges and new trials to suffer through, but old enemies are still waiting to get their revenge.And what happened to Credence's real family?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is it; the final part of my series! I hope you'll be along for this final journey and look forward to hearing from you! <3 It's gonna be a little longer chapters and possibly not as frequent updating; but still enough to make you dread checking your inboxes! ;)

Credence was running for his life, as fast as his feet could carry him and his lungs were about to explode after sprinting down the streets in the middle of the night.

Behind him, he could hear the sound of claws against pavement and the snarling of a hungry beast.

He was turning a corner when his shoe slipped on something and Credence went crashing down. He hit the pavement hard, grunted with pain at the impact, and had just enough time to roll over on his back and see the black shape come flying towards him.

“No!” Credence held out his hands in a defensive move, managing to hold back the massive creature and its deadly fangs with his palms against its hairy chest. “Nonono, please, no! Don’t do this!” He jerked his head away from the teeth trying to tear his face off. “You don’t want to do this! Please!”

The beast was incredibly heavy and one of its claws was digging into his side as it tried to get closer.

Credence realized with a stab of fear that his arms were giving in, the beast was just too heavy and too strong. “Joe, please, you have to listen to me! Don’t do this!”

There was a flash of bright light and suddenly the beast collapsed on top of him, nearly squeezing the air out of Credence. With no small amount of strain, Credence pushed it off and he sat up to glare at the man who came walking towards him like he was sauntering down a fashion catwalk. “Why did you do that?”

“Because,” Percival Graves said as he came to halt next to them and he pocketed his wand with an elegant move, “he was about to eat you. I told you; werewolves cannot be reasoned with!”

Looking over at the unconscious shape, Credence frowned while still catching his breath. “I don’t believe that! They’re human, most of the time. They’re not monsters, Percival. No more than I am!”

Graves held out his hand and pulled him to his feet, studying him briefly for bruises or worse; dirt from the street. “You don’t want to rip people’s throats out every full moon.”

“No, I just destroyed half of New York because I was angry with you,” Credence shot back with a dry look. His heart was still pounding.

“You just didn’t know how to control your powers.”

“And maybe no one has taught them how to either!” Credence looked down at the hairy shape on the ground. “If people treat you like a monster, it’s dangerously easy to become one.”

“You can add it in your report,” Percival drawled with a slight grin. He kneeled down next to the werewolf and placed a hand on it; disapparating them both back to headquarters.

Credence smiled a little, still high on adrenaline from the chase and warm with satisfaction that they had yet another successful mission on their file.  
No more people would get hurt, he would try to talk to their prisoner once he turned human again and London was little safer thanks to the combined effort of Credence Barebone and Percival Graves! He pulled out his wand and disapparated back to the office.

-

Graves handed over the prisoner and headed back to his office at a quick pace. He knew Credence would be waiting there and he was still uneasy at the memory of that werewolf chasing down his partner. He should never have agreed to let Credence try his diplomatic shit first.  
No more Creature Rights magazines for that Auror!

Ignoring the usual gang of slack-jawed idiots milling around in the main area, Percival entered his office and closed the door behind him. As expected, Credence was there and had his back towards him while leafing through some files.

Graves stepped up behind him, sliding his arms around his waist and sighing against his neck. 

Credence leaned back against him with a satisfied sound, continuing to look through the pages. “Whoever you are, we’d better hurry. My boss will be here at any moment.”

When Credence bent to put the files down, Percival followed and leaned heavily on him, forcing him to drop the files and plant his palms on the desk. Even knowing it was a joke, he resented the very idea of Credence being touched by anyone but him, and judging by the breathy laugh from the younger man; that was exactly the reaction he was aiming for.

Graves nuzzled his neck for a moment, suddenly hating the expensive suit that kept him from the skin, but he quickly turned Credence’s laugh to a heady moan when teeth replaced lips. He kept one arm around his waist, holding Credence close, the other hand moved to all sorts of vulnerable areas; throat, nipples, abdomen and finally cupping the half-hard prize between the younger man’s legs.

By then, Credence was close to panting again, squirming restlessly in his grasp. “If you insist on doing the report before me, I swear, Percival, I will murder you! I’m warning you, I will go full Obscurus!”

Now it was Graves’ turn to laugh and he gave a teasing squeeze before there was a flash of magic and they apparated in their apartment. “The report can wait. Just this once.”

The triumphant smile on Credence’s face as he was manhandled back on the bed would have annoying on anyone else, but now Percival was just amazed at the confidence and trust in that smile. How far Credence had come from the cowering thing he’d met on the streets in New York! Then, Percival made both the smile and the clothes disappear with his clever hands and wicked mouth.

After a short while, Credence eagerly moved over to settle himself on his hands and knees and Graves was just too happy to oblige. He would usually expose the younger man to a slow, torturous round for his audacity, but Credence had wound him up too much this time. That, combined the chase, had left him with energy to burn.

Percival pushed into him and gave him the hard pace that would always make Credence’s arms give in and leave him moaning into the mattress. This time was no exception.

“Show me,” Graves ordered in a strained voice. “Show me how much you love this.”

Keening into the sheets, Credence obeyed. Black smoke was soon seeping from his skin, loose objects in the room began to rattle and Percival couldn’t stop to save his life.  
By the time they both collapsed on the bed, running with sweat and thoroughly sated, Graves suspected this would eventually be the death of him and he couldn’t think of a better way to go!

-

Early next morning, Credence had the fortune of waking up first. He squirmed over on his other side to watch the sleeping man next to him.

It was rare for him to wake first, but it was even rarer for Percival Graves to be deep in a peaceful sleep. Usually the man would be restless or in the claws of nightmares, which he would brush off as nothing, but Credence wished he could do something so Percival would always be this calm.

He looked like a completely different man without his tense and stern expression. Credence smiled a little and ached to reach out to touch him, but knew he was a very light sleeper and would wake up.

Predictably, the luxury didn’t last long and soon after, Percival opened his eyes.

Finding himself ogled, he frowned a little with confusion then grunted and rolled over on his back to sleepily rub his face. “Stop that.”

Credence grinned. “I can’t help it. You’re so gorgeous.”

Graves made a sound that voiced his agreement with that statement. He sat up with a sigh, pulling his hands through his hair to sleek it back how he wanted it. “Coffee.”

“I’ll get it,” Credence declared, jumping out of bed and headed for the kitchen. As silly as it sounded, he loved these moments they had in the mornings. Usually their days were filled and kept them awfully busy; the mornings were the only time where Credence got to see Percival as relaxed as he could be, while conscious, and they were allowed to be themselves.

Making breakfast with a couple of waves with his wand, Credence focused on the only thing he always made sure to make with his own two hands; Percival’s coffee. When he returned to the bedroom, he found the other man sitting up in bed, leaning against a small mountain of pillows and going through a work report.

“No work,” Credence chided, crawling back into bed with the coffee cup and a breakfast trey hovering after him.

Nodding, Percival closed the file and put it on the nightstand. It was the one rule Credence had been set on; no work after work hours. It had puzzled Graves at first, then he’d struggled to follow it, but now he could see the advantage of it. He’d reluctantly admitted it was nice to have something other than work to focus on.

“Thank you,” Percival said, accepting his cup of coffee and held on to it with both hands for his first sip, much like a man lost in a desert handed water. It made Credence smile again. 

They had their breakfast in peace and quiet, had small moments of gentle teasing and dwelling affection, but soon enough they were headed for the office.

Credence exchanged a final glance with Graves in the main area before they were going to split up and head to their separate offices, dreaming about how they had next weekend off and how he planned to keep the man captured in their apartment for the duration of it, when a sudden ruckus caught their attention.

As always, Graves took one protective step in front of Credence and the two saw and heard a person argue their way past the other Aurors. It ended with an elderly lady in a fancy hat and a huge dark dress coming to a halt in the center of the main area, eyeing them all with distaste. “Where is he? Where is my grandson?”

-

For a moment, everyone looked at each other and the woman with equal amounts of confusion, forcing Graves to take charge, once again.

“Can I help you, Ma’am?” Percival eyed her warily, taking in what seemed to be expensive clothes and a very confident stance. “Are you lost?”

The woman turned her sharp eyes on him, frowning a little. Eventually she took a step closer, making him move fully in front of Credence, and she measured Graves from his shoes to his precious hair. “You’re a Graves,” she stated in a clearly American accent. “I can tell by your taste in fine clothing and your eyebrows.”

Blinking, Percival allowed himself a moment to process her words before he cleared his throat. “Ma’am, what is it that you want?”

At that moment, Credence popped up to steal a peek over Graves’ shoulder and she pointed an almost accusing finger at the young man. “Him.”

“Me?” Credence squeaked, ducking down behind Percival again.

“Him?” Graves asked, tensing up and channeling magic into his hands. “Why?”

“I was told a former Auror had gotten a hold of my grandchild and had run off to London with him,” the woman said. “I’ve come to fetch him.”

“You will have to go through me first,” Graves declared with a deceptively soft voice, now humming with latent magic he was aching to unleash. “Now, get out and don’t let me see your face again. You only get one warning!”

Strangely enough, that made the woman give a sharp but amused smile. “Well… You certainly have a protective streak in you, don’t you?” 

Credence inched forward to stand next to Percival, placing a gentle hand on his arm to calm him down. “Easy, Percival. I don’t think she means any harm…”

Scoffing, Graves didn’t take his eyes off the older woman. “Are you saying you trust some random lamia who rattled in from the street?”

“Of course not,” Credence replied, daring to glance over at the woman. “But let’s hear what she has to say first.”

There was a tense stand-off, until Percival finally gave a faint nod. He waved a hand at one of the Aurors. “Take her to the interrogation room.” As reluctant he was to have anything to do with strangers who came spouting nonsense, Graves also saw the fragile curiosity in Credence’s eyes. Curiosity and even some hope.

Credence’s past was a mystery to the both of them but Percival knew the odds of it being solved by a woman appearing out of nowhere, was close to zero. Mary Lou had left nothing to indicate the identity of Credence’s mother, making it impossible for them to track down his family, so who was this stranger claiming to be his grandmother?

-

Following the Aurors leading the old woman down the hall towards the interrogation room, Graves halted outside the door. “Let me…” “Do the talking,” Credence finished for him, “I know.”

Percival nodded and headed inside. Credence followed. He chose to stand behind Graves while he sat down in the chair opposite of where the woman was seated by a table.

“Okay,” Percival said. “Talk. And you’d better not be wasting my time, Ma’am.”

The woman gave another one of her tight, sharp smiles. “My name is Regina Broadchurch. You know my family, Mr. Graves, surely.” She glanced briefly at Credence before focusing on Graves again. “I had three sons, Mr. Graves, and I lost them all in the war. All I had left was my daughter Violetta. She took the loss of her brothers hard and sought to find some meaning in what had happened. Unfortunately, this placed her in the path of a cruel man who claimed that being a wizard was a curse. He created quite a following and enticed my daughter to come with him. I only learned of her having a child and her death a year after he had put her in the ground.” 

Credence realized he was holding his breath as the woman talked. This could be his family story! He noted how Mrs. Broadchurch tried to speak calmly and efficiently, but there was nothing fake about the pain in her eyes.

“What makes you think Mr. Barebone is your daughter’s child?” Percival asked in a dry tone.

“One of the man’s most devoted followers was Ms. Mary Lou Barebone. I heard she kept preaching the man’s hatred after he perished as well and took in children to carry on his legacy. I was told the child was male and the age fits. As does his appearance.”

This time, when she looked up at him, Credence couldn’t prevent a faint smile from appearing at the mere idea that this could finally be the answer to questions he’d been asking himself his entire life; why had his parents abandoned him? Why had they handed him over to a monster like Mary Lou?

Percival got up, snapping both Mrs. Broadchurch and Credence out of their reverie and he gestured towards the door. “I will investigate your claim, Mrs. Broadchurch. I’m going to ask you to leave now and stay away. I will contact you. Do not make any effort to contact Mr. Barebone or I will assume you are lying and make sure you never see him again.”

Tutting, Mrs. Broadchurch got up from her chair. “Very protective indeed.” She sent Credence a knowing look and with what could only be called a smirk. “I will wait, now that I know my grandson is being well looked after by his… friend. You will find me at the closest hotel.”

Flushing, Credence ducked his head a little as she left the room in a soft rustle of skirts and only then did he glance over at Percival. “Do you think…?”

“I don’t know,” Percival mumbled thoughtfully, still looking at the doorway. “The Broadchurch family is one of the older ones and I have heard her name before, but still…” He sent him an apologetic look. “Don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

Credence nodded, but he feared it was probably too late.

They were both lost in thought as they headed back to the main area and was surprised to find Theseus Scamander there.  
“Hello boys,” he greeted them. “I need to have a word. With both of you. In your office, Percy.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone from the past wants to visit and it is time for another vacation!

“You have got to be kidding me?” Graves basically growled the words out.

In the sanctum of his office, he was sitting in his chair, while Credence hovered by his side and Theseus was sitting on his desk.

“I wish I was, Percy,” Theseus sighed. “They claim he’s rehabilitated.” He shook his head to show he was as convinced as they were on the matter that Viberus Nadder could ever be made sane. “Apparently, rehabilitation is the new big thing within the psych wards these days.”

“You can’t rehabilitate evil.” Percival couldn’t believe that someone had actually agreed to let Nadder loose on society again. The man was rotten through and through, you couldn’t fix that.

“Surely they can’t just release him without supervision of some kind?” Credence asked.

“His psychologist will do regular sessions with him on a weekly basis and he will be wearing magic-blockers during his probation.” Theseus went silent and stared at the floor.

Graves frowned. He knew his friend well enough to know when he had more to say and was reluctant to say it. “What else?”

“Well,” Theseus squirmed a little before looking up at him. “He has asked for a meeting with you. He says he wants to apologize.”

Both Percival and Theseus started slightly as black smoke flared up to dance around Credence.

Graves cleared his throat and focused on the Scamander brother again. “Yeah, that’s not happening, Theseus.”

“Right,” Theseus said, not taking his eyes off Credence, “I didn’t think so either, but I had to deliver the, er, the message…”

“Any news on Grindelwald?” Graves asked. When Theseus didn’t appear to hear him and Credence kept simmering, he absently reached up to take Credence’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Theseus?”

As the touch made the smoke ease down until it was gone, Theseus finally snapped out of it and could focus on Percival again. “Right! Grindelwald. There are rumors, of course. There always are. The problem isn’t the lack of information, but weeding out the red herrings.”

Theseus got to his feet. “Anyhoo, I have delivered my message and shall be on my merry way! Fawley has set me up to meet with this Russian guy, Makarov, about Grindelwald. This was… interesting, lads. As always! Toodle pip!” He winked at Credence, smiled at Graves and made his escape.

Once they were alone again, Percival glanced up at the silent Credence. He felt an irrational flare of anger towards the Broadchurch woman for messing with his partner’s head. He squeezed his hand again. “Hey, you okay? I’ll check out her story, I promise.”

Frowning down at him, Credence gave a little shake of his head. “What are you…? Dammit, Percival, if that man goes near you… He does NOT get to hurt you again! I will kill him first.”

At first Graves had no idea what Credence was talking about, then realized he meant Nadder, and he simply had to tug him down to sit on his lap to hold him close. His initial instinct was to reassure Credence that Percival Graves could look after himself and that Nadder was not a threat anymore, but a small - yet very loud - part of him was also ridiculously grateful for that someone wanted to protect him, even if he didn’t need it. “My sweet boy…” Percival took Credence’s face between his hands and gave him a soft kiss as he did not have words.

-

Graves sent out feelers about the Broadchurch family and their history, hoping to get some clarity to the statement presented to him. He also sent a rather rude response to the letter he’d received from Nadder’s doctor.

He was sorting out some field reports when he was summoned to Fawley’s office. Frowning, Percival wasn’t reassured when Credence met him in the main area and confirmed he’d been summoned too. That usually meant the Minister had some kind of mission for them, he never dared to speak to Credence alone, but Graves had hoped he’d hear back on the subject of the Broadchurch family before taking on any new escapades.

“We have heard alarming tales, to put it bluntly,” Fawley said once they had settled in his luxurious office, “about this weapon Grindelwald used in Germany. An entire scouting party of Aurors wiped out. A flash of light and then they were gone.”

Graves leaned back in his chair. “I read the report. Why this secret meeting?”

Fawley hesitated, cast a quick glance at Credence in the chair next to Graves, and then he sat down as well. “An informant says Grindelwald intends to use this weapon in Italy.” He lifted a hand to stop any questions. “Now, the Italian Ministry is aware of this. They are taking precautions. However…”

Once again, petty politics between countries made sure that the different Ministries were at each other’s throats instead of combining their effort in stopping Grindelwald, Percival thought with no small amount of bitterness. This was the one thing he had not missed about being an Auror. “What do you want us to do?”

“I would like for you two to travel to Italy. See for yourselves if this weapon exists and if it is indeed as powerful as they claim it to be.” Hector Fawley stared directly at Graves. “If what they say is true, we cannot allow the Italians to get their hands on it.”

Nodding, Percival thought about it, weighed pros and cons, before glancing over at Credence.

The younger man raised his eyebrows to show the decision lay with Graves, but he was certainly not opposed to the mission. The slight smile revealed he was thinking about some of the very pleasant memories he had from Italy during his and Percival’s stay there.

“Very well,” Graves said, all business. “We’ll go. Send the intel to my office and I’ll report back with our findings.”

“Splendid!” Fawley declared, clearly satisfied. “And, of course, should you be questioned by the Italians…”

“We’re merely taking a vacation there,” Percival replied, knowing too well how these kinds of missions worked. “Understood.”

He got up and motioned for Credence to follow him as well. They had taken two steps out of the office when the Obscurial glanced over at him with a grin. “Italy!”

Forcing himself not to smile, Graves kept his stern face on. “Deadly weapon, remember?”

“I better pack sun lotion this time…” Credence mumbled and Percival lost the battle against the smile.

-

“Are you sure about this?”

Credence had to smile a little about the nervous touch to Percival’s voice. They were standing by the English Channel and was about to try crossing it for the first time by the Obscurus.

Stepping up behind the other man, Credence slid his arms around Graves’ waist and rested his chin on his solid shoulder. “So little faith in me?”

Percival turned his head to send him a stern look. “This has nothing to do with faith and everything with the fact that this suit will not survive a fall into the damn Channel.”

Amused, Credence allowed the black smoke seep from him, preparing himself for the longest jump he’d ever done in his other shape. He saw Percival’s focus shift to the darkness and how once again the man was mesmerized at the sight; forgetting all about his reservations. “Are you ready?” Black tendrils began snaking up Graves’ legs, preparing to engulf him in the cold and already there was a faint shiver in the man’s body.

Forcing his eyes off the Obscurus, Percival met his gaze and gave a nod.

The Obscurus rushed out of Credence, and he felt the thrill of power that always followed its release. No more fear or scramble for power, Credence felt it like a part of himself. He still had trouble not acting on impulse while in this form, but it was nothing like before.

Wrapping himself around his precious Percival, he could sense the man inhaling a sharp breath as he was picked up by the dark magic; a magic deadly to others. His heat was enticing and a part of Credence wanted to dig it out of him, but that was easily kept in check by the knowledge that it would kill Graves. (He was still amazed that Percival trusted him enough to allow him to carry him like this…!) Making sure his cargo was safe and secure; Credence turned his hazy sight towards the English Channel.

In his human form, he would have hesitated. Now, Credence felt his powers shiver with anticipation and merely bolted forward; heading for France.

Allowing himself to race ahead as fast as he dared with Percival in his grasp, Credence threw in a couple of loops and brushed by the water surface just to rejoice in the freedom.

He was almost reluctant to touch down on ground, it felt so good to be this powerful and know nothing could hurt Percival as long as he kept him in his embrace, but he fiercely reminded himself that they were on a mission and they had a time schedule to keep.

Landing a little distance inland, Credence lowered Percival until he was standing on his own two feet, and then drew the Obscurus back inside himself. He felt a little dizzy, diminished, but also giddy. He’d done it! He got them over the Channel!

Credence grinned happily at the equally dizzy Percival, the dark magic did take its toll no matter how much Graves loved it, and he stumbled over to engulf him in a sniggering embrace.

He would never tire of how Graves saw him as a miracle and not the monster everyone else labeled him as.

-

They continued towards Italy and upon their arrival in Rome, Percival was smugly satisfied to see the flush on Credence’s face when he realized they were going to stay at the same hotel they’d spent a very heated night last year.

A bribe even ensured they got the same room.

When Credence asked if they should do a little scouting, Graves declared that work could wait until the next day. (He wanted to enjoy the happy and carefree look on Credence’s face a little longer…)

Eager to try the outdoors swimming pool, Credence headed for his bag with a satisfied cackle and pulled out a small bottle. The sun lotion! And of course, Percival volunteered to help apply it.

He noted, as he ran his hands over Credence’s scarred back; that the lankiness was almost gone now, replaced with a healthy, wiry strength. It took every bit of his willpower to keep his touch innocent.

Percival managed to keep that willpower going until evening fell and they retreated to their room. Then all bets were off and he set free the hunger he’d stored up throughout the entire day.

He stripped Credence of the few pieces of clothing he was wearing and got him on the bed. There he allowed his hands and lips full freedom. The lotion had prevented Credence’s delicate skin from burning, but there was still a heat to it and he only grew warmer as Percival kept caressing him.

When Graves moved down and put his mouth on him, Credence reached behind himself to grab a desperate hold of the headboard to keep himself from automatically reaching for Percival’s hair. The younger man arched his back, dug his heels into the mattress and struggled to breathe between the moans.

Graves loved watching him like this; loved teasing out the breathless whines and making him squirm in desperate need. Graves could do this all damn night.

He kept building it up, kept drawing Credence near his completion, only to release him from his mouth and start kissing his thighs and stomach instead until the danger of climax had passed and then he went back to building it up again. The room was quickly filling up with black smoke.

A long, long while later, Credence was running with sweat, trembling and almost sobbing as he pressed his face against his right arm, his hands still frantically grasping the headboard behind him. “Oh, God, Percival, please… Please! Please, I need… Ple… Please…!”

Percival reluctantly decided to show mercy. Taking him in deep, sucking hard, he felt the room shudder and shake as Credence choked down a wail of pleasure and relief as he finally came.

While the Obscurial laid shaking and panting, Percival crawled up next to him. He pried Credence’s fingers loose from the headboard and gathered him in his arms, petting his hair and soothing his scrambled mind until the black smoke was gone.

“I want… that on my… my death certificate… Cause of death,” Credence panted exhausted.

Graves laughed. Then Credence’s hand was on him and he made a very different sound.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember that light attack Grindelwald uses at the very beginning of the movie? Yeah, that one.

Two days, they got two days of playing tourists and it wasn’t hard to pretend. Credence felt a little guilty that he allowed Percival to do the actual work, but he had a much keener eye for things out of place and it was so awfully easy to be distracted by all the wonderful things to see.  
He was struck by a fierce feeling of how much he missed travelling with Percival. Just the two of them. Happy. He wondered if they would ever travel again…?

Credence was about to share his thoughts when he glanced up at the other man and found him staring intently at something. A quick look in the direction he was staring at, Credence saw a man slinking into a church.  
Frowning, Credence felt unease spreading through him. “Is that…?”

“I’m not sure,” Percival mumbled. “But I don’t like it.” He sighed. “Would it be any point in asking you to wait here?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so.”

Graves made his way towards the church and Credence followed, suddenly having no trouble scanning their surroundings for anything out of place. He could feel the Obscurus stirring from his tension.  
Inside there were only two people, one of which was the man Percival had spotted, the other appeared to be a cleric of some sort. Credence eyed them curiously as they stood at the back of the church in quiet conversation.

Graves kept to the shadows just inside the church doors and Credence made sure to follow his example. Percival’s fixated stare and tense posture was contagious.

For a while, nothing happened. The two men were talking, and they were hovering by the entrance.

Suddenly, the doors opened and more people entered the building.  
They were unfamiliar to Credence, but the similar clothing and the wands in their hands made him think they were Aurors. 

The man who had caught Percival’s attention turned to face them, ignoring the cleric who ran for cover, and the Aurors said something in Italian.

Graves made a quick turn towards Credence just as the man by the altar pulled out his wand and called out some kind of spell or curse. There was a violent flash of light and Credence felt Percival give him a hard push to send him toppling behind one of the church pews.

-

It was like time slowed down. 

Percival heard the man call out a spell, realized it had all been a trap to entice the Aurors into a field test and there was a jab of fear. He’d seen pictures of what the spell had done to the Aurors in Germany.  
A flash of light confirmed his fear and there was a wave of pure, bright energy that flew towards them.

He reached out and pushed Credence hard to make him get down while turning his back towards the altar; placing himself between the younger man and the spell and praying his magic barrier would be strong enough to save himself as well. 

As Credence fell, Graves was surprised to feel his fingers grasp a firm hold of Percival’s wrist and yank him along. Unprepared, he lost balance and fell forward. He saw in slow motion how Credence twisted himself mid-fall, pulling Percival under his body, and the Obscurus exploded into existence.

The dark magic engulfed Percival just as the white light disintegrated the Italian Aurors and a second later, it slammed against the darkness like a tsunami.

Curled up inside the pitch black, Graves fought to breathe. Time suddenly seemed to speed up.

Light began to stab through the darkness. Percival maneuvered himself up on his knees, struggling to keep his balance inside the whirlwind of the Obscurus, and he stared with disbelief at the piercing whiteness puncturing holes in it.

The Obscurus gave a pained howl, shuddering under the strain, and Graves shouted Credence’s name. The young man’s upper body materialized from the darkness and Graves struggled to reach him, continuing to call his name.

Credence’s pale eyes began to glow and soon the light was puncturing holes in his body as well as the rest of the darkness.

Percival heard Credence scream and was abruptly blinded by the bright light that was everywhere! Graves’ entire body lit up with pain. Credence screamed again.

Then there was nothing. And time passed.

Slowly, his senses were returning to him, but it cost Percival a lot to open his eyes. Blinking, he tried to make sense out of what he was seeing and what had happened.

All he could see was a white ceiling, until he was strong enough to focus a little more and turn his head. He had trouble remembering what had happened, but he realized he was in a hospital.  
By the bed, asleep in a chair; Theseus.

Tired, no, exhausted, Graves had to save up energy again before he could reach out and brush a finger by Theseus’ knee. He needed to know what had happened. 

Jumping in his seat, Theseus sat up with a confused look. Then he realized what had woken him up and then leaned forward to grasp Graves’ hand between both of his. “Percy!” His eyes went blank with tears of relief. “You’re awake…”

-

“What happened?” Graves whispered, closing his eyes. He was so tired… So very tired…

“What do you remember?” Theseus asked, not releasing his hand.

He tried to remember, he really did, but his mind was like a black hole. Percival floundered for a response, tried to go back in time to see what the last thing he remembered was…

“I remember… We came back to England. We… began working there.” His head was starting to ache. “Credence began Auror training…” Percival tensed a little from the pain. “No, wait… I remember… Nadder… “He felt himself tremble from the strain he was putting himself through. “The Broadchurch woman… “

That was when it all came rushing back and Graves inhaled sharply. He began looking around the room. “Credence!” There were three other beds there, but no one occupying them. Returning his attention to Theseus, Percival didn’t want to hear the answer, but he still had to ask; “Where is Credence?”

Theseus squeezed his hand hard and gave a faint shake of his head.

“No?” Percival snapped in a shaky voice. “What do you mean, no? Where is he?” An unspeakable grief was bubbling up inside him, a grief so heavy he wouldn’t be able to bear it. 

“You were the only one,” Theseus whispered. “The weapon, it… The Italians lost three Aurors too…”

Remembering how Credence had placed himself between Graves and the deadly light, he found himself struggling to breathe. Shaking his head, Percival kept trying to gulp down air. “No… No… No, he… No!”  
Lifting his hands, Graves pressed them against his ears for a moment, as if he could block out what had been said, but when that didn’t help; he grasped a hold of his own hair until it hurt.

“Hey,” Theseus called out softly, moving up to sit next to him on the bed, gently prying his hands loose. “Percy, please…” He pulled him close.

Graves kept choking out his objections to what he refused to accept until unconsciousness reclaimed him and he merely slumped against the other man.

Theseus didn’t move away. He sat there, holding him close and stroking Percival’s back in a soothing manner.  
“It’s going to be okay,” Theseus whispered.

He just wished he could believe his own words.

-

Percival Graves was dreaming.

He was floating in the darkness again. It was impossible to say what was up or down, there was only pitch black nothingness.

Lost in apathy, Graves didn’t notice he was not alone for the longest time. When he eventually took heed of the speck in the distance; he tried to make his way towards it. He didn’t know why, but it was extremely important that he’d reach that person.

Trying to move was like being stuck in molasses, but Graves kept struggling. He had to reach that person! He had to! 

-CREDENCE!

Waking up, warm and in the embrace of another soul, Percival was allowed one moment of ignorant bliss before the sounds and smell of the hospital made him remember and he opened his eyes with a start.

Theseus ran his hand down Graves’ arm in a soothing gesture. “I’m sorry…”

Grief came crashing down on Percival again, threatening to crush him, and he just couldn’t accept it. “He can’t be gone,” he whispered. “He’s not. I saw him. In my dream.”

Pausing, Theseus hesitated before he resumed stroking his arm. “We don’t know what the weapon does, you know…”

Percival sat up, staring at him. “I have to find him!”

Theseus pulled him close again. “First you need to regain your strength for a bit. I will find out what I can about this weapon, but I need you back on your feet if we’re going to have any hope of sorting out this.”

Wild and desperate hope spread through Graves and he nodded. “How long was I out?”

“A week.”

A whole week? Credence had been missing, probably captured, for a whole week? While he so desperately wanted to run out and go looking at once, his body just wouldn’t obey…

Hours later, when Theseus heard them approaching, he left the sleeping Percival on the bed and walked over to meet the Italian Aurors in the doorway.

“We heard you told him the Obscurial is still alive,” a dark haired wizard said. “That is a lie.”

Theseus glared at them. “You don’t know that.” He stepped closer to them in an unspoken challenge. “Truth is, we really have no idea what that weapon does, and Credence Barebone is my friend. If there is the ‘slightest’ chance that he is alive, that we can get him back, I will do whatever it takes. And you lot better stay the hell out of my way!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graves tries to deal with Credence being gone and discovers the attack has not left him unchanged either...  
> Extra long chapter!

The very next morning, when Percival fought his way back to consciousness, he insisted on going back to the church.  
Just like with his family, Graves needed to see where it had happened. Theseus wasn’t happy about it, but he didn’t give a damn. He’d crawl there, if he had to!

Apparating in the church, compliments of the concerned Englishman by his side, Percival gently pushed himself away from Theseus and took a couple of unsteady steps towards where he remember standing with Credence. Looking around, he replayed those final moments to himself.

Pausing where he remembered falling, where Credence had wrapped himself around him, Percival sank down on one knee and placed two fingers to the floorboard. His digits came up with a fine cover of soot. 

There had been no fire, he could see no sign of a fire, was this what that light-curse left behind?

Graves’ body was already taxed by the simple journey and he slowly reached out a hand towards Theseus to help him get up. After his silent request had been granted, he swayed a little unsteadily, staring at his black fingertips. “We have to find him…”

Before Theseus could reply, the doors to the church opened and like before; Italian Aurors entered the church. He heard them say something but was too lost in memory of Credence’s scream to make out what. Theseus spoke too, he sounded angry, and it forced Percival to return to the present.

“The Ministry demands your presence,” Theseus explained and gritted his teeth with barely restrained anger.

Percival nodded. He didn’t have the energy to argue. “Okay…”

Theseus leaned close to murmur, “You don’t have to, you know. They have no grounds of restraining you.”

“It’s okay.”

Minutes later, they were surrounded by Aurors and walking into a grand hall where the Italian Ministry resided. Percival focused on staying upright and allowed Theseus to do the talking. He absently noted that they accused England of sending Graves as a spy and demanded to know why he had been present at the church.  
Theseus defended him fiercely, battling them with their own politics and how they had allowed Grindelwald to use an illegal weapon that left one of Britain’s Auror injured and one missing since the attack. Two men who were there on a vacation!

As time passed while the accusations flew back and forth, Percival began to pay less attention to it. He was finding it harder and harder to stay on his feet. There was an unbearable pressure in his chest. It was both painful and making hard to breathe. He lifted a hand to press a fist against his sternum, but the pressure just kept increasing. The pain began to radiate from his chest, travel down his arms and into his hands…

When Theseus called his name, he couldn’t answer. He felt the other man take a hold of his arm and there was a displacement of air before they apparated back at the hospital. Percival allowed the darkness to swallow him.

-

Percival Graves was dreaming.

He was floating in the darkness, filled with apathy, until he realized he was not alone. Scrambling to turn, he saw a figure floating in the distance. He tried to move closer, but it was like being stuck in molasses. Still, wasn’t he a little closer now…?

Opening his eyes with a start, Percival found himself back in the hospital bed and Theseus was talking to some Aurors by the doorway. He used his stubbornness to find the strength to sit up. He felt a little better, but still so very tired. His arms felt like they were made of lead.

“Percy!” Theseus came over to his side. “Are you okay?”

Nodding, Percival tossed the sheets aside and put his feet on the floor, aiming to get up.

“Maybe you should rest a little more?” Theseus sounded and looked nervous.

“No time,” Graves stated. “I got to find Credence.”

“What is there to find?” One of the Aurors asked, sounding bitter. “He’s dead. They’re all dead.”

Percival spared the man a glare before focusing on Theseus again. “What have you found out about the weapon?”

“It’s a weapon!” The Auror continued, sounding angry now. “It kills! That’s what it does! It disintegrates whatever living creature comes in its path! Turns them all into ashes and soot!”

With a speed that surprised even him, Graves was on his feet and over by the Auror. He grabbed a hold of the man’s shirt and slammed him back against the wall. “You, shut the hell up! Shut up or I will rip your fucking head off!”

“Percy,” Theseus called out.

Graves ignored him, ignored the Auror’s companion who’d drawn his wand, merely focused on the man in his grasp. “He’s NOT dead!”

“PERCIVAL!” Theseus yelled.

“What!?” Graves glared over at him.

Theseus, pale and worried, nodded towards him. “Take a look at your hands…”

Confused, Percival did as he was told. Shock hit him hard as he saw the black wisps rising from his grip. Releasing the Italian Auror, he stumbled a step backwards, holding his hands up to stare with utter disbelief as the wisps flickered briefly from his palms before they died and vanished.

-

“We have to go back to England,” Theseus insisted. 

“No,” Percival muttered. He was sitting on the bed in the hotel room he and Credence had rented. After what had happened in the hospital, he’d been in too much of a shock to say much.

“We need Newt,” Theseus kept insisting, standing in front of him. “You know as well as I do that he is the one who knows the most about Obscurus’! We need his help, Percy!”

“I’m not leaving Credence here,” Graves said.

Theseus crouched down in front of him, taking his hands between his, making him meet his eyes. “Listen to me, okay? Whatever that weapon did, I don’t think Credence is kept captive in some basement here. If they took him, he’s with Grindelwald by now and he won’t go anywhere near Italy as long as there is such an upheaval after the attack. You know that. Right now, we got to get you home and let Newt figure out what the blasted weapon did to _you_. You can’t rescue Credence if you can’t stand upright for more than two minutes!”

Closing his eyes tight, trembling with defeat, Percival eventually gave a weak nod.

As Theseus began the preparations for their departure, Graves glanced over at the nightstand and saw the bottle of sun lotion Credence had brought. He should never have allowed Credence to come along…!

The journey back to England was uneventful. Percival slept for the most part. He kept dreaming about floating in the darkness, noticing a second figure and struggling in vain to reach it. He came a little closer every time, but never close enough. And, no matter how much he slept, he still woke up feeling tired to the very marrow of his bones.

Coming back to the apartment, the apartment where he and Credence had made their home, and finding it empty; it hurt almost more than Percival could stand.  
He was relieved when Theseus left him there, off to fetch his brother, and he was alone with his sorrow. As much as Graves tried to tell himself that he would get him back, that he would find him, there was still a part of him that whispered that he’d never see Credence again.  
Climbing into their bed, Percival hugged Credence’s pillow to his chest and tried to block out the whispers.

He closed his eyes and suddenly found himself floating in the darkness. As before, he had to struggle out of his apathy to notice that he was not alone. The other figure did not move, merely floated.  
Struggling to get closer, Graves realized that while he made progress, ever so slightly, he was tiring so fast… He’d never reach that other person.

“Percy,” a voice called out to him. “Percy, wake up!”

Blinking, Graves woke to find himself in bed, with two Scamanders by his bedside. He stared at them for a second and then sat up with a weary groan. “That was fast…”

“Not really,” Theseus said quietly. “I’ve been gone for almost five hours, mate. Had a very angry Russian military wizard in my office who thinks I’m avoiding him. How are you feeling?”

Newt frowned, more concerned that nervous for once. “This is bad…”

-

The younger Scamander prodded and asked and prodded some more before digging up some books from a big satchel he’d brought. While he read, Theseus brought Graves some tea.

Managing a faint smile, Percival accepted the cup and stared into the liquid. “I hate tea, you know…”

“I know,” Theseus answered with a weak smile of his own, “but this will help you regain your strength. It’s a family recipe.”

He took a sip and made a face. “It still tastes like regular tea; horrible.”

“Ungrateful yank,” Theseus scolded softly, sitting down beside him and brushing a lock of Graves’ hair from his face. “Drink up.”

Nodding, he tried to do as he was told, sip by sip. Even after almost five hours of sleep, Percival still felt like he could curl up on the bed and sleep for fifty more. 

“Right!” Newt slammed his book shut and turned to face them. “Right…” His excitement died at little as he seemed to remember he was dealing with Percival Graves. “Er, okay, well…” Newt shuffled a little closer, avoiding eye contact. “How much do you know about the Obscurus phenomenon?”

“The basics,” Graves sighed. “Why it forms, that no host lives beyond the age of ten and that it is immensely powerful. Those are ordinary Obscurials though; there is nothing ordinary about Credence.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Newt said with a slight shrug. “But still, er, the basis is the same. His Obscurus came from suppressing his powers from childhood, abuse and loneliness. It is, at its core, the same as any Obscurus; a manifestation of corrupt magic. Because of this corruption, it acts like a leech to its host. It feeds of its host’s magic as it cannot survive on its own, but as it grows; so does its hunger.”

Percival sighed. “So far you’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”

“Theseus told me what happened at the hospital,” Newt shifted his weight nervously. “Could you… show me, Mr. Graves?”

Hesitating, Graves held out his hand, palm up, and tried to will the wisps into existing again. Nothing happened. When he was about to get angry, he remembered the advice he’d once given Credence. Forcing himself calm, he drew a deep breath and reached inside. He had no idea what he was reaching for, but something told him he’d feel it when he found it.

There. A sudden cold, so cold it burned, flared along his arm and into his palm; there a black wisp came into life. Small, weak, but it was there. And it hurt. 

Newt leaned forward to study it for a moment, and then he straightened. “Okay, that’s enough.” He had an even more concerned look on his face. “I was hoping I would be wrong…”

-

Percival was too tired to get angry now, merely shook his head a little. “You still might be, but tell me anyway.”

“Credence’s Obscurus, it has attached itself to you. When the spell hit; it must have felt the danger and latched itself on to you to survive.” Newt glanced over at Theseus. “It’s damaged, so it is feeding on Graves’ magic. That is probably why you’re feeling so tired, Mr. Graves.”

Getting up, Percival stepped over to the window, looked out for a few seconds, and then turned to face the Scamander brothers again. “Does this mean Credence doesn’t have the Obscurus anymore? He’s defenseless against Grindelwald?”

Theseus and Newt exchanged looks. The younger Scamander hesitated before giving a little shrug. “Mr. Graves, the Obscurus wouldn’t leave Credence.”

Feeling the unbearable grief threatening to flood over him, Graves blocked it out and held up his hand again. Focusing, he reached inside until he found the cold entity and pushed it into his arm until the black wisp appeared in his hand again.  
It really hurt now. How on earth did Credence manage this? How did he feel this all over his body and not be screaming in pain? Had he been in pain? Had he been suffering every time Graves had asked him to change into the Obscurus and just never told him?

“Mr. Graves, you got to let me separate that Obscurus from you before it is too late,” Newt requested in a gentle voice.

“You don’t know he’s dead,” Percival whispered, staring at the wisp and savoring the pain. “You have no proof.”

“Why are you so sure he’s not?” Newt asked, ignoring the warning look from his brother.

“Because,” Graves began, “I keep seeing him in my dreams. He is trapped somewhere. And I’m going to find him. I need the Obscurus to do that.” 

The black wisp flickered before it died and vanished. The pressure in his chest increased.

“Mr. Graves, that is not how…”

“Get out,” Percival whispered, turning away from them. “Both of you. Get out.”

Newt glanced over at Theseus, hoping to appeal to him to make the man see sense, but the older brother merely shook his head. He knew better than to try to change Percival’s mind when he was like this.  
“Come on,” Theseus muttered, gesturing for Newt to follow him and the door soon closed behind them.

Staring out the window, Graves took a couple of deep breaths and slowly lifted a hand to press it against his chest in a futile effort to ease the pressure there.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When we finally discover what happened with Credence!
> 
> (You can pry this trope from my cold dead hands!  
> Oh, and Regina would of course be played by the magnificent Dame Maggie Smith!)

Five days later, Percival was sitting on the edge of his bed while Theseus did his usual daily visit to plead for him to give up the Obscurus.

“Have you seen yourself in a mirror?” Theseus exclaimed, pacing the floor in front of him. “You look like you’ve been through the bloody war all over again!” He pulled both his hands through his hair. “You sleep all the time. You hardly eat. Newt is right; this thing is killing you!”

Shaking his head, Graves sighed. “I’m getting closer, Theseus.”

“Closer? Closer to what? Your death? That’s right, you are!”

“My dreams. I can almost reach him now. I saw him!” Percival held out his hand and channeled the cold into it, making his entire hand and the arm down to his elbow light up with black smoke. “Look.”

Theseus looked, but with an expression of discomfort rather than being impressed. “Oh, Percy…”

Graves let the black smoke die out and cringed a little at the sharp jab of pain in his chest. The pressure was constant now, like an elephant was sitting on his chest, but he was experiencing these piercing shots of pain as a bonus whenever he stirred the Obscurus.  
He held his breath, closed his eyes tight, and waited for it to pass. It always passed. Eventually it did, allowing him to exhale and open his eyes again.

“Percy,” Theseus repeated, sounding devastated.

“I’m fine,” Grave countered. And he felt a little better, especially as the pressure in his chest eased a little with a pop. 

“No, you’re not,” Theseus said, followed by a dripping sound.

Glancing down, Percival saw some liquid fall to the floor and frowned. He stared at it for a while, trying to make sense out it. Suddenly, he realized what it was; blood. Reaching up, Graves touched his upper lip and felt it sticky. His nose was bleeding.

“You have to let Newt get that thing out of you!” Theseus implored, kneeling down in front of him. 

“And what happens if he does?”

“Best case scenario, you’ll recover within a week. Worst case, you’ll end up dead, but doing nothing is a death-sentence in itself!” Theseus replied.

“The Obscurus.” Graves insisted, not meeting his eyes. “What’ll happen to it?”

Theseus hesitated. “Percival, it is too weak. It won’t survive. All it does is drain you of life! Please!”

“No,” Percival shook his head again. “No, I need it. I need it to find Credence. I’m so close!”

“How are you going to find him when you’re dead?” Theseus yelled, finally losing his patience.

Huffing amused, Graves closed his eyes again as the pressure in his chest began to build up again; even worse than before. “So close…” He wheezed, “So… close…”

Darkness swallowed him whole. Soon he was floating in the pitch black and was scrambling towards the other figure there.

Finally close enough, he reached out his hand to finally touch… Credence…

-

Clawing his way back to a conscious state, Percival groaned softly. His body felt like a hollowed out shell and his head was hurting. He blinked and tried to make his fuzzy vision focus.  
When things finally stopped being blurry, the first thing he saw was Newt Scamander as he hovered over him.

“Ech,” Graves made a face and turned his head away. Where was he anyways? Some strange apartment, not a hospital. Newt Scamander’s place?

“He’s awake!” Newt called out. There was the sound of footsteps and Theseus’ voice could be heard.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

Grunting, Graves turned his head back. Luckily it was Theseus’ face which greeted him this time. “What happened…?”

Theseus’ green eyes were filled with worry. “You collapsed. You started bleeding and you collapsed. Your eyes went white. By the time I got you to Newt, you were shaking so bad I thought you’d die before he could do his thing.”

Suddenly wide awake, Percival reached out and grabbed a hold of Theseus’ shoulder. “The Obscurus…?”

“We managed to separate it from you,” Theseus whispered, reaching up to place his hand over his and squeezing it gently. “It was killing you, Percy. I couldn’t watch you die!”

“No…” Graves gulped down air. “No, I…” He pulled at Theseus to sit up, feeling panic curl up in his stomach. “I needed that to find him.”

“No,” Theseus countered softly, helping him sit up. “Not anymore.” He took a step to the side, holding him up so he wouldn’t fall back into the bed, revealing the second bed in the room. 

Placed at the opposite side of the small room, what looked like a field bed was made up and on it; a sleeping Credence Barebone.

Shock, disbelief and urgency struck Percival Graves in that order. “It’s really…? How?”

“It is,” Theseus confirmed with a faint smile. “When Newt separated the Obscurus from you, it had grown sufficient enough to turn solid again. It was hiding its host until it was strong enough to reshape him.”

Percival began inching off the bed and when Theseus tried to stop him; he sent him a stern look. “You can either help me get over there or get the hell out of my way, Scamander.”  
Sighing, Theseus helped him up and over to the bed.

-

Sitting down on the bed, Percival reached out to gently touch Credence’s jawline. The contact against the warm skin confirmed that, yes, he really was there.  
“Credence…?” He whispered.

“Listen, there’s something…” Theseus began, but then Credence moved and everyone turned their focus to him.

Graves felt like his heart was going to beat its way out of his chest and he took one of Credence’s hands between both of his. “Credence, look at me.”  
He hardly dared to hope, but the feline eyes slowly opened and looked straight at him. There was no doubt that this was indeed his Credence. 

For that moment, it was worth it. The weeks of pain and despair, it was all worth it; just to have Credence back. Thank Merlin, he was alive! 

Credence blinked once, slowly and thoughtfully, and then he frowned confused. “I’m sorry, but… who are you?” He began inching away on his elbows, glancing around with ever increasing worry. “Where am I? Where’s Mum?”

Graves looked over at Theseus, who sighed. “I was trying to tell you… The Obscurus was hurt, remember? It’s still hurt and regenerating. It reshaped him, but it was too weak to do it properly. He doesn’t remember.”

Percival reached out a hand and Theseus automatically took it and helped him back into his own bed, while Newt tried to calm Credence down.  
Of course. Things were never that easy. There was always a price to pay.

“Will he…?” Graves asked, unable to lift his gaze from his own hands, now curled up in his lap after he was seated in his bed again. 

“We don’t know,” Theseus admitted. “Newt has never heard of anything like this happening before. Then again, your Credence isn’t any old regular case of Obscurus, right?” He placed a comforting hand on Graves’ shoulder. “You’ve called him a miracle more than once in the past and that lad just proved you were right by just being here again. I say you shouldn’t stop believing that he got more miracles up his sleeves. Okay?”

Nodding, Percival wanted to believe, but… He glanced over at the nervous Credence being comforted by a gentle Newt and found comfort in the sight.   
“He’s alive, Theseus,” Graves said, “That is all that matters to me.”

“Yeah,” Theseus whispered wistfully, “I know that feeling…”

-

Hours later, Graves managed to drag himself into the living room, leaving the bedroom to Credence and Newt, with orders to look after him. Finding Theseus there, he leaned against the doorway and cleared his throat to gain his attention. “Who knows about this? About Credence?”

“We haven’t exactly had time to broadcast it,” Theseus replied. “The Ministry still thinks you are sick, but I can…” “No,” Graves interrupted, “I want them to keep thinking that. As far as everybody else knows, except from the people in this apartment, Credence is missing, possibly dead.”

Theseus gave a slow nod.

Percival hesitated, but he had to make the request. “I know I’m already so deep in debt to you that I’ll never be able to pay you back, but I need to ask you for another favor, Theseus.”

Theseus didn’t appear surprised by the request. “What do you need?”

“Could you check on the feedback on the Broadchurch-woman? The one who appeared and claimed to be Credence’s grandmother?”

Now that seemed to puzzle him. “What? Why?”

Percival made his way to a chair and sank down into it, still so very tired. “Because we need to hide him somewhere. He’s defenseless and I’m a mess.” He crossed his arms in an effort to keep warm. “He doesn’t remember. Can’t use the Obscurus. We got to keep him safe.”

“Why hide him with the Broadchurch woman? “ Theseus shook his head a little with confusion.

“Because it will cause suspicion if I was to vanish too and I have no idea where we’d be safe from the fanatics. And as long as I stay, Grindelwald will focus his anger on me if he does decide to make a move.” Percival smiled a little at the frown on Theseus’ face, but continued with his speech.  
“If Credence never remembers,” Graves felt grief brush by him at the mere thought, “and if, by some miracle, that woman proves to be his blood; he could be kept secret and safe with her.”

The one positive thing about that would be how Credence wouldn’t remember killing Mary Lou or Shaw either. His conscience would be wiped clean and he could live without guilt or blood on his hands. Maybe have the life he was originally meant to have, instead of what he had to settle for?

Theseus sighed, clearly tired as well. “I will check on the reports on Broadchurch.” 

“Thank you,” Percival said with sincerity. 

Nodding, Theseus got up to leave the room, only pausing briefly by his side to place a hand on his shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze. 

Left in silence and solitude, Percival Graves tried to make sense of what was happening and how to deal with it. He knew what he ‘should’ do, what his mind told him would be the wiser move, but his heart, the egotistical thing, kept rebelling.

It wouldn’t be the first time he would give up someone who held his heart, Theseus was proof of that, and he would do it again if it meant that Credence would be better off.

No matter how much it hurt to let go of the younger man; it had hurt a hell of a lot more when Graves had thought Credence was dead.

-

The story Mrs. Broadchurch had given Graves checked out, as far as her sons perishing in the war and her estranged daughter was concerned. There was absolutely nothing that tied the woman or the Broadchurch family to Grindelwald. There was no real evidence that confirmed Credence as Violetta’s son either, but neither was there anything to disprove it. All in all, Mrs. Broadchurch seemed to be what she claimed to be; a grandmother desperately looking for her grandson.

Percival decided to chance it. He requested that Mrs. Broadchurch would come to Newt Scamander’s apartment to meet with him. 

Theseus had asked why they didn’t ask the Ministry for help, that they could keep Credence a secret with their aid, but Graves had merely pointed out how the MACUSA was infiltrated by Grindelwald sympathizers (Graves had not been the only one turned) and he’d be naïve to think the British Ministry didn’t suffer the same problem with spies. Hell, at the moment they had a damn Russian hanging around the office!

Credence still slept most of the time and Percival could only make himself look in on him during those moments. He couldn’t stand seeing the way he’d look at him; curious and without recognition.

When Theseus guided Mrs. Broadchurch into the living room where Graves was seated, Percival tried to appear unfazed and not as unsettled as he felt. “Mrs. Broadchurch, I’m grateful you agreed to meet with me.” He gestured to a chair. “Sit. Please.”

The elderly woman scanned his appearance briefly, then moved over and settled on the chair. “I have been trapped in that horrid hotel, waiting for your message. It is not polite to keep a lady waiting, Mr. Graves.”

“Indeed it is not. My apologies, Mrs. Broadchurch.” Percival countered.

The woman gave her sharp smile again and raised an eyebrow in dry amusement. “Considering your close affiliation with my grandson, I think you should call me Regina.”

“I have yet to confirm that Credence is your grandson,” Graves said in a carefully neutral tone. “However, I find myself in a situation where I have to ask for your help.”

That made Mrs. Broadchurch pay attention. “Explain.”

“There was a fight and Credence got injured,” Percival decided to very restrictive with the details. “He was hit by a weapon of sorts and everyone thinks he perished in that moment. But Credence is far stronger than most give him credit for. He survived, but he can’t remember the last years. I need to keep both his survival and his injury a secret. Until he recovers.”

“Last time, you didn’t even allow me to talk to the boy and now you trust me to take him away?”

“Not for one second,” Graves countered with a sharp smile of his own. “Newt Scamander will be coming with you and you are not to leave London until further notice. If you really believe you are Credence’s grandmother, you should be interested in keeping him safe, correct?”

“I like you, Mr. Graves,” Mrs. Broadchurch stated, getting up. “We have an agreement.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence is told he has to stay with his grandmother, but he just can't forget about that handsome Mr. Graves...!

Credence knew there was something wrong with him, knew there were huge gaps in his memory, even if he couldn’t pinpoint what was missing; he could feel there were significant holes gone from his life. Newt told him not to fret, that he’d been in an accident and that he’d remember in time.

If that was true, why was he being shipped off with this woman, whom he was told was his grandmother (Mum never told him he had a grandmother!), to go into hiding? And with Newt as a babysitter, no less! Strangely enough, Credence found himself more curious than afraid.

The enigmatic Mr. Graves was behind this, no doubt. 

The stern and distant man would barely be in the same room as Credence, but there was something about him that made the young man flush under a single glance. The few times he got to watch him, Credence was mesmerized by the dark eyes, his elegant hands, and the solid firmness of his body. The man’s voice felt like silk across his skin; a startling contradiction to the feeling of the belt…

Credence was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He wondered if he would burn if he touched him.

Leaving the apartment, with Grandmother in front and Newt behind him as a tail, Credence managed to send one final glance back into the apartment. He saw Mr. Graves standing by the window, his back towards the door, with Theseus by his side. Theseus was shaking his head at something.

Grandmother brought him to a beautiful house, even Newt gawped at it, but Credence was more busy noting how the building was further away from Newt’s apartment than what he liked. For some reason, he didn’t like the idea of being too far away from Mr. Graves, even if the man couldn’t get rid of him fast enough.

He was then basically put under house arrest and the only bright side of things was how Grandmother insisted that Newt would teach him some basic spells. Proper magic! It was like he’d woken up from the nightmare of his old existence to this new life with endless opportunities!

The first night in the new house was… interesting. Credence woke up, panting and flustered, from an extremely vivid dream about him and Mr. Graves. And the things they did…!

Dear Lord, how could his brain conjure up such vivid images? And it even ‘felt’ real! He could still remember the sensation of the man’s lips and the pressure from his fingers. Credence rolled over on his side while he tried to ignore the aching hardness between his legs, as he’d always done in the past when lust arose, but it had never been this difficult. He’d NEVER had a dream like this before!

Morning arrived, but he couldn’t forget that dream. He tried to focus as Newt droned on about spells and charms and whatnot, but Credence was constantly distracted and soon Newt decided they would try again the next day. He handed him some books and told him to read up on things.

Grandmother appeared shortly after that. She was acting odd too. Like she didn’t quite know how to behave around him for some reason. When she got called away by a servant, Credence grasped the opportunity and did the one thing he knew was forbidden; he snuck out of the house. It wasn’t like Mum was there to punish him with the belt anyways!

Knowing they would be looking for him, Credence made sure to keep in the shadows and the back alleys, but he didn’t stop until he reached his destination; the apartment where he’d seen Mr. Graves last.

-

Slipping inside the building, Credence headed up to where he’d been ushered out like some dangerous secret. He considered knocking, but tried the doorknob instead. The door was open.

He stepped inside and listened. Everything was quiet. He could only hear the ticking of a clock.  
Credence swallowed hard and walked through the hall and stopped in the doorway to the living room. He could not believe he was doing this! This was insanity!

Sitting on the sofa, reading a book, was Mr. Graves.

Seeing him, actually seeing him there, made Credence’s heart pick up its pace and he felt heat rise to his face. He tried to tell himself he was there to ask him why he’d been hidden away, not reenact the dream, but Credence knew that wasn’t entirely true…

Mr. Graves had been nothing but distant to him, but Credence was still itching to touch him.

He must have made a sound of some sort, because suddenly Mr. Graves lifted his gaze and was staring straight at him. For one second, for one precious moment, the dark eyes softened and Mr. Graves seemed pleased to see him, but then the moment passed and his face became completely passive and the eyes angry.

“What are you doing here?” Mr. Graves stood up and basically threw the words at him. 

Hesitating at first, Credence then stepped into the room and scouted around for Theseus. There was no sign of anyone else being in the apartment. “I just… I wanted to ask you something…”

Mr. Graves was glaring at him now. “Credence, what have you done? Where is Scamander?”

Credence inched closer and noted how incredibly tense the other man was. “Looking for me, would be my guess.” He tried a smile. It was met with more glaring. Had this been a mistake…?  
Sighing, Credence sat down on the sofa next to the chair where Mr. Graves had been sitting. “Mr. Graves, I know something happened to me and that I can’t remember, but why do I have to be hidden away? Why can’t I stay here? Can’t you help me?”

It almost seemed like Mr. Graves had turned into a statue. He did not move at all. Had he even blinked since he started glaring? It was really unnerving!

“Credence, you need to stay with your grandmother. That’s all you need to know!” Mr. Graves reached down and took a firm hold of Credence’s wrist; yanking him back up to his feet.

Credence automatically flinched at the touch, but then he felt a jolt of excitement as he ended up chest to chest with Mr. Graves. He could feel the man drawing a startled breath, but he made no move to push Credence away, merely held on to his wrist. They were so close…

Driven by a crazy urge, Credence moved in and kissed him. 

-

It was a gentle touch at first, followed by Credence moving in for a second press of his lips.

Mr. Graves remained frozen, but his lips were soft, and his stubbly chin rasped gently at Credence’s own skin. It felt different from the dream, innocent instead of starving, but it felt damn good!  
Credence was surprised to feel Mr. Graves’ hands coming up to cup his face and then he was kissing him back! Oh, Lord, it was almost too much for him to handle. And yet…

Credence moved even closer, driven by a need for more. He was not prepared for how it made Mr. Graves pull abruptly away with a hissed profanity.

Embarrassed, but also encouraged by how the man had kissed him back, Credence regained his balance and smiled a little. Surely this meant he found Credence fascinating too?

Mr. Graves cleared his throat and his eyes flickered for a moment before he regained his emotionless mask. “Credence…”

“Credence!” Newt’s voice rang out as he apparated in the apartment. “There you are!”

Mr. Graves clenched his jaw and shifted his focus over on Newt. “Why is he here, Scamander? I thought you were supposed to keep an eye on him?”

Newt made a distressed sound, shuffling over to Credence. “I’m not his bloody jailor, Mr. Graves.”

“Just… get him out of here,” Mr. Graves snarled, turning away.

Credence wanted to take a step after him, but Newt took a hold of his arm and shook his head at him.  
Bad idea.

Resigning, Credence nodded and hunched his shoulders awkwardly. 

A second later, they apparated inside grandmother’s house and Credence found himself facing a hurt looking Newt Scamander.  
“I’m sorry,” Credence mumbled, staring at the floor. “I just… I wanted to talk to him. I know he’s the one who demands I stay here. I just wanted to know why.” He waited for his punishment.

Sighing, Newt shoved his hands into his pockets and he shifted his weight a little uneasily. “Did, uh, anyone see you? On the way over?”

“I don’t think so. I snuck over, in case you were following me.” Not the belt… Anything but the belt!

Smiling a little, Newt bumped his shoulder against his. “Want to see if there are any cookies left in the kitchen?”

Credence blinked, not sure if he had heard correct. “Uhm…” Was this a trick?

He waited, but with the expression on Newt's face, the lack of anger, it didn’t seem like it. Absurd as it was.“Yes, please.”

And maybe, just maybe, Credence could think about something other than kissing Mr. Graves and how much he wanted to do that again…

-

“You really think going back to work is such a grand idea?” Theseus leaned back and sipped his tea while watching Graves poke his meal around on his plate as they were sitting in the living room. 

“Yeah, I…” Percival dropped his fork and gave up on eating. He had no appetite. “I need to learn more about that damn weapon. I need to neutralize it. Preferably Grindelwald with it.”

“Ah,” Theseus snarked, sipping his tea again. “Why-ever didn’t I think of that first.”

Frowning annoyed, Graves gestured a shush him. He went silent for a little while, but couldn’t keep quiet about it. “He came back here today.”

“Who?” Theseus asked and then blinked surprised. “Credence?”

“Yeah.” It took quite an effort to keep a neutral face. He still had trouble believing that Credence had been so brazen and he’d even kissed Graves! And that kiss… He could still feel it…

“What about Newt?”

“Apparently, Credence snuck out.”

Theseus snorted a laugh and looked a little impressed. “Why, that cheeky little monkey!”

“Don’t encourage him!” Percival warned. “This is for his own safety.”

Rolling his eyes and getting up, Theseus picked up Percival’s plate and brought out to the kitchen with him as he went to refill his cup of tea. “I still say the best way for him to remember is with you, not hiding him away.”

Graves leaned back in his chair, grumbling. “You don’t get a vote.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Theseus sighed. “What else is new.”

Sinking a little deeper in the chair, balancing the line between sulking and feeling guilty, Percival waited until Theseus returned to his own seat before speaking again. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” Theseus interrupted him, taking a sip of his fresh tea and picking up a book.

Graves frowned. He stared at his friend; reading and drinking his tea as if he was used to being taken for granted and snapped at. Frowning deeper, Percival picked at a loose thread on the armrest of his chair and kept staring. 

Eventually Theseus lowered his book and looked over at him with a second sigh, but now with a touch of annoyance. “What?”

“I just…” Graves shrugged, for all his eloquence when it came to work he could never find the words around Theseus. “You don’t have to… I know I’m…” He huffed, frustrated, about to get angry as he was already unbalanced from the uncertainty around Credence, when Theseus leaned forward and placed his hand over his.  
Instantly, the tension went out of him and Percival turned his hand to take a grateful hold of his. 

“Just hang in there, yeah?” Theseus said softly. “It’s going to sort itself out…”

He didn’t know if he believed that, but at least Graves knew he wasn’t alone this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some UST-plot building going on, but stay with me, people, things will start happening at a faster pace again soon! ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence just can't stay away and Graves reveals a painful secret...

The day after making his great escape, Credence decided to at least try to do as he was told. He kept to the house and tried to work on some of the charms Newt had showed him.

“They tell me you have talent,” a voice said.

Credence spun around and found himself facing his grandmother.

Regina Broadchurch gave a sad smile as she studied him. “My Violetta was also talented. She far surpassed her brothers, something they always resented her for.”

Hesitating, Credence wasn’t quite sure how to respond. 

“Here.” She held out a photograph.

Taking it, Credence found himself looking at a beautiful young woman. She tossed her black hair in a coy movement and grinned up at him with the confidence of youth. Could this really be his mother?

“You recognize her?” Regina asked quietly. She was looking at him with a vulnerable hope in her eyes. 

Credence took a second look at the picture, tried to force forth the few memories he had of his life before Mum, no; Mary Lou, but it was in vain. The face was not at all familiar, but his past had always been blurry to him. He glanced up at his grandmother and shook his head. “I’m sorry…”

Regina forced a smile and took the picture back when he offered it to her. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll come to you, I’m sure.”

For some reason, Credence wasn’t so sure.  
There were so many questions spinning around in his head. He still had trouble believing there was an entire magical society, which meant that Mary Lou had been right; witches did exist. But what kind of accident had he been in? Why couldn’t he remember?

And speaking of Mary Lou, what had happened to her. (Newt said she was gone, but he wouldn’t say anything else.) It was hard to relax as Credence lived in fear of that she’d appear to drag him back to America at any moment with the belt in her hand.

Which brought yet another question; why were they in England??  
Endless amount of questions, but he kept coming back to the biggest one; Mr. Graves. 

No matter how much Credence tried to focus, he kept reliving the kiss and the urge to return was steadily growing worse. They hadn’t even punished him for his stunt the last time, which made the temptation even greater…

That night he dreamed of using his mouth in all sorts of sinful ways on Mr. Graves. The next day, he was over half-way to the apartment before anyone realized he was gone.

Entering the apartment again, Credence was tense with excitement and the slightest touch of fear. He had no guarantee that Mr. Graves would react favorably and not just kick him out before he got to talk to him this time, but he had to try! He’d go stir crazy if not!  
Credence heard footsteps and eagerly darted into the living room. He froze the very second the person in there came into view and a somewhat perplexed Theseus stared at him. 

“Credence?”

“Please don’t send me back!” Credence blurted out. “I just need to see him.”

Theseus didn’t move at first, hesitating, and then he walked over to him with an apologetic look. “He’s not here.” 

Credence couldn’t hide his disappointment. “Oh…”

“He’s back at work. At the Ministry,” Theseus said. He paused for another moment before he held out his hand. “Come on. I’ll take you to him.”

Strangely enough, Credence didn’t hesitate to reach out and take his hand.

-

Trying to find a balance between sorting out the reports which had piled up in his absence and finding information on Grindelwald’s weapon, Graves was blissfully lost in his work and only popped out to get some coffee before he returned to his office. Work was what he did best!

He closed the door after his return and had just circled his desk and put down his coffee cup when he heard a sound behind him. His office was warded! No one should be able to enter it!  
Spinning around, Percival made a rather undignified sound of surprise at the sight of Credence and backed into his desk. “What…!” He cleared his throat and forced himself to at least sound calm. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing here, Credence?”

Credence struggled not to smile at his reaction. “I wanted to see you…” 

“How…?” Graves sputtered, but then got a look of worry. “Did you just walk in here? Did anyone see you?”

Shaking his head, Credence took a step closer. “No. We used magic.”

“We?” Percival snapped, back to glaring again. “Who are you…? “ He blinked and turned his glare towards the door.

“Please don’t be mad at him,” Credence begged. “I asked him to! Don’t hurt him, Mr. Graves.”

“I’m not going to hurt him,” Percival promised in a deadly smooth voice, “I’m just going to turn him into one of those damn creatures his brother loves so much!” How could Theseus do this to him?

“I asked him,” Credence repeated, sounding nervous but continuing to inch closer. 

Eyeing him warily, Graves kept his ground, but clenched his jaw to steel himself. “How many times do I have to tell you that you have to stay with your grandmother for the time being?”

“At least once more?” Credence said with hints of a smile, now close enough to touch.

Fighting against the urge to back away, refusing to appear weak, Percival kept his neutral face on. “Then I hope you actually listen this time.” He leaned closer, almost close enough for their noses to touch, and he stared into those gorgeous eyes. “Unless I explicitly invite you, you are NOT to come to my office, Credence.”

“Okay,” Credence agreed affably. Then he leaned in and kissed him.

Even without his memory of them, Credence still kissed like Credence and Graves automatically responded to it. He wasn’t even aware of how he leaned into it, how his hands found their way to Credence’s upper arms, or which of them it was who deepened the kiss. It was all so easy, so natural, so everything. He’d forgotten how to be alone without being lonely and now that Credence was here… He missed him so much!

There was nothing shy about the way Credence delved into the kisses, how his lips moved or how his tongue slid by Graves’ like it had every right to caress him like that, and Graves’ ego demanded that he gave as good as he got.

The younger man made a soft moan into his mouth and leaned eagerly against Graves, causing Percival’s blood to run even hotter. To hell with it! Seconds later, they fetched up against the wall with hands going everywhere, and Credence snuck a leg around his to arch against him; searching for even more contact.

That made it Graves’ turn to groan and he didn’t feel how Credence’s fingers moved up into his hair before they took a hold and pulled his head back to bare his throat, aiming to cover it in kisses. In a heartbeat, desire was drowned in painful memories from Graves’ past and Percival pushed himself away while shoving Credence harshly against the wall.

Cringing at the startled look on Credence’s face, hating his own inability to forget, and raging against how unfair it was that Credence couldn’t remember, Graves trembled with too many emotions at once. “Don’t you EVER do that again! Don’t touch me! Just, sit down over there, keep quiet and stay there! Understood? Sit!”

Confused and scared, Credence moved over to the chair and sat down.

-

Oh, Theseus was in so much bloody trouble! Percy was going to curse him so badly that he wouldn’t be able to walk for a week! Still, it was worth it! The tosser was too stubborn to see what was right in front of him, as always. (Yeah, it still hurt. He suspected it always would.)  
Credence needed Percy, not be hidden away with strangers.

Slipping into his own office, Theseus tried to focus on work instead of Percival Graves. He sent Captain Makarov a brief smile, still not used to the Russian’s presence but forced to endure it under orders from Fawley himself.

It wasn’t that he minded Makarov! No, he was fairly easy to get along with as the man was both clever and quiet, but he hadn’t shared an office since before the war! 

Makarov had short dark hair, narrow grey eyes, broad shoulders and the muscles of someone who didn’t spend a lot of time behind a desk but preferred to get his hands dirty. The Russian was on the short side, not that Theseus was a towering giant himself but next to the Captain he was half a head taller, and there was a world-weariness to Makarov’s face; like he’d seen too much to ever be surprised again.  
Oh, and the man seemed to have a strong allergy against wearing anything but his uniform!

“Mr. Scaman-dur,” Makarov’s mangling of Theseus’ last name was one of the things he liked the most about him, it was verging on cute, and he figured it was a suitable punishment for him to struggle with it as he refused to call him by his first name, “I believe I have found… interesting.”

“That certainly sounds interesting!” Theseus grinned, sauntering over to where the man was hovering over a map. “Show me.”

Makarov had marked time and locations and of every one of Grindelwald or his fanatics’ attacks in Europe and it showed a worrying pattern. The attacks were growing more frequent and new weapons and spells kept appearing. And he did not like how it was circling Germany.  
“This… is worrying,” Theseus muttered.

“Yes.” Makarov deadpanned. He moved over to pick up a pile of files on the latest attacks. “Perhaps you should do less disappearing and more work.”

Knowing he had been letting the Russian do most of the investigative work with the junior Aurors while he had been busy keeping Percival alive, Theseus sighed and hung his head low. “I told you; it was an emergency.”

“If Grindelwald gets his war, we all have emergency,” Makarov countered, managing to sound both condescending and neutral at once. 

Theseus was reluctantly impressed.

-

Slamming the door to Theseus’ office open, Percival marched inside and found the Brit hovering over his report-covered desk, in the company of that damn Russian. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t curse you.”

“Because you owe me,” Theseus replied absently. He glanced up and saw the pale and shaken state of Percival Graves. “Percy…?” He straightened with a concerned look. “What’s wrong?”  
The Russian straightened as well, frowning.

“Take him back to that damn house and tell them to keep him there,” Percival snarled. He couldn’t forget how Credence had cowered after his harsh words, as nervous and frightened as he’d been back in the US. “Now!”

“Wait, what…” Theseus began, but Graves didn’t want to listen. He marched out of the office and could just hear him apologizing to the other guy before trotting after him.  
“Percy!”

Halting by his own office door, Graves pointed at it. “House. Now.”

Theseus hesitated, but eventually ventured inside. There were some muffled talking, followed by the sound of air being displaced and he knew they had disapparated away. Drawing a deep breath, Percival finally dared to re-enter his office and slowly made his way over to his expensive leather chair.

When Theseus returned, Graves was sitting with his elbows on his desk and hiding his face in his hands. He really didn’t want to talk, but he knew the Englishman would not let it go. Not when he’d seen the state of Credence. This was what made Theseus a good man and Percival not.

“Right,” Theseus said, entering the office and closing the door behind him. He moved over to sit down on the desk, next to him. “Talk. What in Morgana’s name happened?”

Graves lowered his hands and shook his head. “It was nothing… It was my mistake. I didn’t mean…”

“I’m not going to make you.” There was a gentle touch to Graves’ shoulder. “But I like to think you know you can trust me, after all these years.”

“I know,” Percival whispered. “It’s just… It’s so stupid!” He choked out a laugh. 

“What happened?” Theseus asked.

“He pulled my hair,” Graves said, hearing how incredibly stupid it sounded out loud. And once he’d said that, he did what he’d never done before; Percival Graves spoke out loud about what had happened all those years ago. “Like Ben…”

Maybe it was the strain of everything that had happened, maybe it was because he was scared he’d never have Credence back, or maybe because Theseus deserved to know every bit as much as Credence did, but Percival revealed his painful past with one Benjamin Roberts. 

He told him how Ben had betrayed him in the worst possible way, when Percival had just been informed that his parents and his younger sister had burned alive in an accidental fire, and how much Ben enjoyed pulling at Graves’ hair while he hurt him. He didn’t go into details, but he told enough.

-

Percival was almost scared to look at Theseus afterwards. He did not want to see disgust or pity from his friend, it would kill him to lose Theseus’ respect, but he made himself glance up.

Instead of what Graves thought he’d see; there was a quietly pained empathy in Theseus’ green eyes. He gave a faint nod, as if he had suspected something similar all along, and he held out his hand.  
Graves automatically took it and was relieved to feel the gentle squeeze.

“I’ll talk to Credence,” Theseus said, gently. “I won’t tell him what you told me, but I will explain that it wasn’t his fault.” He squeezed his hand again. “And this wasn’t your fault either, yeah?”

Percival stared at their hands. “But it _was_ my fault.”

“No.” Theseus countered firmly, leaning forward until Percival met his eyes. “None of it was your fault. Not then. Not now.”

Wanting to believe it, but struggling, Graves shook his head silently.

“And when Credence remembers, he will say the same thing when you tell him,” Theseus continued.

“I can’t,” Percival whispered. “I can’t tell him… He thinks I’m perfect. He thinks I can protect him. But if he learns that I couldn’t even protect myself…”

“Oh, Percy…” Theseus exhaled, clearly agonized by the words. “How can you be the cleverest man I know and still be so daft?” He reached out and drew the back of his free hand gently across Percival’s cheekbone. “You _are_ perfect. A monster in your past doesn’t change that.”

Closing his eyes, Graves leaned against his touch. He’d been reluctant to tell anyone, certain they’d think less of him and rightly so, but Percival was relieved he’d been proven wrong. When it came to Theseus, at least.  
Now he just had to make a decision when it came to Credence…

“Don’t run,” Theseus said, which made no sense.

Percival glanced up at him, frowning. “What?”

“Back in France, when I asked you to come with me, you ran.” Theseus moved down to kneel in front of him and took both of his hands in his to send him a pleading look. “Don’t do that to Credence. Don’t run from him as well.”

Slammed by guilt and unnerved by how well Theseus knew him, Graves cleared his throat. “I won’t. I won’t run.” He stared at their hands again. “And… I’m sorry.”

“No,” Theseus countered softly, “I’m sorry. If I’d known, back then, I would have gone after you. I just thought you didn’t want…”

Shaking his head, Graves gave a bitter smile. “No, I… I wanted. Very much. I just thought you deserved better…”

“You idiot,” Theseus scolded affectionately, pulling him into a hug. “But, thank you, for telling me.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence gets a visitor.

Pacing his room, Credence kept replaying what had happened and drove himself crazy wondering what he’d done that had caused Mr. Graves to react so badly? The man had recoiled like Credence was going to hurt him and then he’d gotten so VERY angry…

For some reason, everything in Credence had suddenly warned him that the man was more than capable of hitting him. It was almost as if he could picture it happening… Feel the slap to his face…

Theseus had tried to calm Credence down, told him he’d talk to Mr. Graves and discover what had happened and that everything would be okay, but he couldn’t stop pacing. Why couldn’t he remember??

Finally snapping, he flung the door open and stormed to where he could hear her play the piano in the grand ballroom.   
“Why didn’t you look for me?” Credence exclaimed as he stalked into the room. He didn’t stop until he was standing next to Regina. If he couldn’t get answers from Mr. Graves, he was damn well going to get them from her! “It’s been over twenty years! Why did it take you so long?”

Regina stared at him for a moment. “Credence, I…” She had to gather herself and straightened her back a little, steeling herself. “Your mother and I… It was… complicated.”

“So complicated that you left me with a stranger and I had to be whipped by a belt for over ten years before you could be bothered?” 

“No!” Regina reached out for him, but let her hand drop when Credence flinched away. “No…” She got up and closed the lid of the piano, brushing her hands over the smooth surface. It was like she was debating with herself whether to tell him or not, but eventually she spoke.

“Violetta was talented, but she was also very headstrong. Back then, we had strict rules and certain things were expected of a young lady. She never understood why she wasn’t allowed to do whatever her brothers did. In the end, it got her into trouble.” Regina cleared her throat with a quick glance over at him. “With a young man.”

“I was livid,” Regina continued. “I had such plans for her, but with one indiscretion, everything was ruined. Violetta didn’t want to marry him, but if she hadn’t, she would have been even more ruined. Along with the family name. So we made her. I made her.” There was nothing fake about the pain in her voice now. “She never forgave me.”  
“The young man was of a non-consequential family and once they were married, they moved away. Far away. She wrote only for the holidays, short and polite with no real information. I figured she was just being stubborn and would see sense with time, so I was stubborn too. It wasn’t until the war, with the loss of my boys, and when the letters stopped, that I realized how foolish I’d been…”

A bit of the anger and frustration drained away from Credence and he just felt sad. “She never told you about me?”

“No,” Regina admitted, staring at the floor. “Later, I discovered that she’d not had an easy life. Her husband was constantly working on one scheme or another, while she struggled with a very sick child… I think that’s why she started looking for answers in odd places. The loss of her brothers meant the loss of her anchor to her past and she was easy prey for the fanatic. Her husband died, a freak accident they said, and she left with her son in tow to follow a preacher of hatred. Fourteen months later, she was dead and the child was gone and I was finally told of her fate. They tried telling me that the child had died with her, but I did not believe them. I knew they were lying…”

-

“Why do you think it’s me?” Credence asked.

“Because you look like her,” Regina replied and managed a faint smile. “That, your powers and the fact that Mary Lou Barebone hated my Violetta enough to keep her child as her slave out of spite. I heard she treated you worst. Didn’t you ever wonder why?”

Nodding, Credence hunched his shoulders a little at the memories. “She would call my mother a wicked, unnatural woman…”

“Because Violetta was his favorite and a truly talented witch,” Regina explained wistfully. “She could have achieved so much with her powers…”

“But if you knew, why didn’t you go to Mary Lou sooner?” Credence asked, unable to settle.

“The preacher and his followers were constantly on the move, never leaving a word where they were headed next, and after he died; his followers scattered to all winds. I looked, I spent fortunes on rumors, and as the years passed, I started to wonder if the child had died after all…”

“What changed your mind?”

“I read about a powerful disturbance in New York, a young wizard under the ward of Mary Lou Barebone sent to prison,” Regina smiled a little. “I knew it had to be you. But, again, by the time I got there, Mr. Graves had run off with you and it has been a nightmare to trace you down since. The man is as paranoid as all of his ancestors put together!”

So it had been Mr. Graves who had brought him there. He wondered if the man regretted bringing him to England with him now. “Don’t worry. I doubt he’ll run off with me again…”  
Before Regina could ask what he meant, there was the sound of someone calling Credence’s name from the hallways. Theseus. Credence excused himself and darted out to see him.

Smiling a little at the sight of him, Theseus gave a cheerful salute. “Problem solved, mate!”

“What…? Did he…? Did I…?” Credence didn’t know how to put his guilt and confusion into words.

Theseus moved over to wrap a comforting arm around his shoulders. “It was just a misunderstanding, Credence. He feels really bad about losing his temper like that and you’ll be able to cash in on that later, but right now you just got to focus on getting your memory back. Percy is not angry with you, I swear.”

“He sure seemed angry,” Credence mumbled.

“Yeah, well,” Theseus said, “more with himself at the moment. It was just a misunderstanding, okay?”

Credence still had no idea what he’d done wrong, but something deep inside him told him he could trust Theseus; so he did. Nodding, he tried a smile. “Okay.”

There was a melancholy to the smile Theseus gave him in return. “I know how you feel about Percy, so don’t give up on him, Credence. Just give it time. Promise?”

Embarrassed that Theseus realized he was beyond fascinated with Mr. Graves, maybe he even knew he’d kissed him, Credence felt his face turn red but he still managed a firm nod.“I promise.”

-

The following day, Credence decided to really focus on his training. He had to get his memory back and he was going to do whatever it took to remember!

“Right, uhm,” Newt began, “I was wondering, if you don’t mind, if we could try something, er, new today.”

“New?” Credence asked. He felt he’d had more than his share of new experiences and new information since he woke up in England.

“Well, old, really, but sort of new to you now,” Newt rambled, shifting his weight uneasily and he flickered his gaze between Credence and the floor. “I was just wondering if you could try… other magic. Before, as in before you lost your memory, you had an… ability. A different sort of magic.”

Credence blinked confused.

Newt gestured him to follow and they walked to the grand room where they’d been practicing their magic. “I want you to try reaching for that magic, Credence. Inside of you. Not the kind we have been using for the charms, but something more, er, darker.”

“Dark magic?” Credence echoed, tainted with disbelief. “You want me to use dark magic?”

“Noo.” Newt huffed and then cleared his throat. “Well, yes. But not to do any harm or any mischief! I just want to know if you can reach it.”

Anything but convinced, Credence decided he owed Newt to try at least. So he did.   
Nothing. 

They kept trying, but still nothing. No matter how Credence tried, no matter what Newt suggested, there was nothing. It was like reaching into a void. It was just empty inside him.

Eventually Newt gave up, but he didn’t seem angry. “Don’t worry about it,” he merely said, sounding an awful lot like his brother. “Your accident may have changed things or you just need more time. Don’t worry about it.”

Credence managed a faint smile, not overly convinced but there wasn’t really anything he could do about it. Was this why Mr. Graves didn’t want him around anymore? 

He was lost in gloomy thoughts and actually walked into Newt’s back as he failed to see the other man freeze in the doorway. Puzzled, Credence peered over his shoulder and saw a stranger standing in their hallway.

“Excuse me,” the stranger said. It was a man around 40 years or so, wearing a fancy suit and glasses. “I’m looking for Credence Barebone.”

Newt didn’t move, keeping Credence behind him. “Why?”

“Because I have a message for him,” the stranger replied with an odd smile. He tilted his head slightly as he studied Credence. “That’s him, is it not?”

Quickly pulling out his wand, Newt shoved his free hand back at Credence. “Run.”

-

Confused, Credence took a step backwards and shook his head. “What?”

Newt went into a battle stance and the stranger had pulled out his wand as well. “Get out of here, Credence. Fetch Regina and head for the Ministry. Go!”

Credence still hesitated, but then there was a flash of light as the stranger launched his attack and Newt staggered backwards. It was a short and brutal fight, one Newt might have won if not for a tiny cry of pain from his pocket as a spell hit him.

Distracted, Newt instantly reached for his pocket. “Pickett!”

The stranger used his chance to hit him with a paralyzing spell and Credence could only stare in horror as Newt fell. He moved his gaze up to the stranger as he stepped over the fallen Scamander and instinct made him duck under the first spell sent his way.

Panic set in and Credence began a mad dash for the stairs to the second floor, but he kept having to dodge spells and curses and eventually lost balance on the floor. Adrenaline pumping, he ended up sitting and scrambling backwards as the stranger slowly stalked towards him.

“Credence Barebone,” the man said, almost dreamily. “I have a message for you; Viberus Nadder regrets he couldn’t be here today, but he is currently busy repaying Mr. Graves for their last meeting.”

Trembling, Credence held up a defensive hand. “Nadder? Who? I don’t understand!”

The man shrugged. “I just had to deliver the message. He didn’t say you had to understand.” And so he lifted his wand and shot a lightning spell towards him.

Whimpering, Credence cowered. He heard the impact, but he felt nothing! Surprised, he looked over and found the stranger staggering back under a barrage of spells from above.

Standing in the stairway, Regina Broadchurch didn’t hesitate but kept attacking with her wand. She was soon trembling with the strain, but the stranger was forced to back up and keep up his defense and Credence could only stare until the magic finally stopped.

Panting, the stranger glared up at the woman and shook his head. “You will regret interfering.”

“I think not,” Regina answered haughtily and watched impassively as the stranger was suddenly hit by a paralyzing spell. As he fell down; he revealed the shaking Newt Scamander behind him.

With Newt taking care of securing the attacker, Regina rushed down the stairs to kneel down next to the pale Credence. “Are you unhurt?”

Credence looked up at her with raw fear. “They are going after Graves!”

-

Doing what he did best; Graves buried himself in work, refusing to even think about the horrible incident with Credence. No, he focused single-mindedly on Grindelwald’s weapon and he did not like what he was discovering about it.   
He’d never met such a thing of pure destruction…

A knock on his door broke him out of his train of thought and he glanced up to find Theseus standing there.

“There is a report of a magical incident by the Brompton Oratory,” Theseus said. “There has been an explosion or something. The reports are… odd.”

Percival got up and got his jacket. “Let’s go.”  
He had taken two steps out of his office and was about to ask Theseus about casualties and the number of No-Majs involved, when an Auror called out his name.

“Mr. Graves, sir, I’m dreadfully sorry, but there is someone asking for you,” the Auror said.

Hesitating, Percival glanced from Theseus to the Auror. “Can’t it wait?”

“I don’t think so,” the Auror sounded apologetic.

“Go,” Theseus said, nudging him. “I’ll bring Makarov. It’ll do him good to get out of the office. You can catch up later, okay?”

“You sure?” Graves asked, glancing over to where he saw the Russian talking to two other Aurors. 

“Positively!” Theseus replied. “Go. Save the day, Mr. Graves.”

“If you wait just a few minutes, I can…” Percival began, reluctant to send Theseus into the field with some strange Russian.

“Don’t worry,” Theseus drawled. “I got this. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Percival still hesitated, even as Theseus sauntered over to the Russian and explained the situation, but once the duo had disapparated away; he turned to follow the Junior Auror to whatever situation was demanding his presence.  
“What is so damn important that it can’t wait?” Graves grumped.

The Junior Auror shrugged. “I’m not certain, Mr. Graves. He just told me to fetch you and that it was an emergency.”

An emergency? Now that made Percival uneasy.

When they arrived and the Junior Auror opened the door to the room; Graves was unprepared for the sight that met him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A distraction ends in bloodshed

Standing in the middle of the room, Newt Scamander looked like he’d been through one serious battle, but he was stubbornly on his feet and by his side; there was an unknown man in chains.   
“Mr. Graves…” It was the first time ever where Newt seemed relieved to see Percival. 

“Mr. Scamander,” Graves acknowledged him, but he was too uneasy to bother with more pleasantries. “What happened? Is Credence alright? Is he hurt?”

“Credence is fine,” Newt replied with a faint smile, but it vanished as he glanced over at his captive. “This fellow came to the house and claimed he had a message for Credence. Then he attacked.”

Graves took a step closer to the man, who seemed half-asleep on his feet. “Who are you?”

The man glanced up at him and gave Percival a wide smile. “Mr. Graves! It’s an honor! I am Healer Lakewater. I sent you a letter?”

Frowning, Graves struggled to remember, but suddenly the pieces fell into place. “You’re Nadder’s healer…”

“Yes!” Lakewater swayed slightly. “He was terribly obsessed with you. He wanted to pay you back.”

“So he went after Credence?” Percival made no effort to hide his disgust. “Why would you agree to attack an innocent soul, Lakewater? Why did you even spring Nadder from the hospital? The man should be locked up for the rest of his days.”

Lakewater frowned, as if he was struggling to remember. “I… Because someone told me to…”

Newt sent Graves a look and Percival returned it with a faint nod. He was no expert on the Imperius Curse, but it would explain a lot. It seemed like Grindelwald didn’t want to let go of his puppet yet.  
“Well, his plan to kill Credence failed,” Graves said. “And he’s not going to get away with it.”

Lakewater shook his head. “It was never about killing Credence Barebone.”

Percival frowned with confusion. “What?”

Lakewater kept shaking his head. “No, that was just to keep you here. A distraction. Nadder said it would be impossible to kill the Obscurus, but attacking him would make you come running.”

Graves suddenly felt worried. “A distraction from what?”

“He said,” Lakewater stared directly at him, “he was going to kill your darling friend instead.”

It was like all the oxygen disappeared from the room and Percival Graves went ghostly pale. “Theseus!”

-

Arriving at the scene of the Oratory, Theseus glanced around and scanned the situation before he began issuing out orders. He sent three Aurors to close off the area and one Auror to deal with a couple of injured Muggles, and then paused in front of the building itself with Makarov by his side.

The Russian raised his eyebrows at the sight of a good sized hole in the massive wall. “Looks like something punched through,” he said.

“My exact thoughts, my good sir!” Theseus replied, not comfortable with the amount of power it would have taken to blast through the stone. “I’m going to head inside and have a peek. Could you arrange for the preparations for the clean-up?”

“Very well,” Makarov straightened a little, as if given an order, and he caught himself doing it. Clearing his throat, he shifted his weight. “Are you sure you do not want me to go with you?”

Theseus sent him a grin. “Worried about my safety? I didn’t know you cared! I’ll be fine.” He winked at Makarov and left him flustered while he strode towards the Oratory.

Stepping through the hole, Theseus glanced around and looked for any signs of what could have caused the damage. There was no sign of burn marks or other fire based spells. Strange…  
Halting in the middle of the empty church, there was a sound that broke the unnatural silence hovering there. Theseus turned and was surprised at what he saw. “Oh…” He slowly raised one placating hand. “Wait. Don’t…”

Outside of the Oratory, Makarov had just regained his composure, damn these Westerners and their odd behaviors, when the infamous Mr. Graves apparated. Looking as stern and imposing as ever, the man marched straight towards Makarov.

“Where is he?”

Hackles instantly up, Makarov sent him a narrow look. Graves hadn’t bothered talking to him once during his entire stay and now he didn’t trust him to look after Mr. Scamander? “Inside. Why are you here?”

Graves didn’t answer, merely rushed towards the broken wall, and before Makarov could say anything else; there was another explosion from inside the church.

Smoke billowed out of the Oratory and Makarov felt a jab of concern. Scamander was in there!

He didn’t hesitate, merely followed Graves into the mayhem. Inside the church, the air was filled with dust clouds and it made it difficult to see, but he could make out Graves’ shape and focused on following him over the rubble.

Whatever had happened, it had caused massive damage to the building. Wooden beams and stones laid scattered everywhere. Makarov felt his skin crawl, as if something unnatural was in there with them.

Graves paused by the altar, calling out with no small amount of desperation in his voice; “Theseus!”

There was no reply.

-

Percival kept himself from panicking by pure stubbornness. There was no time to panic; he had to find Theseus!  
Dust made it hard to see and there was debris everywhere. He forced away the urge to cough in the bad air. “Theseus!” Graves knew the man would have answered him by now if he was capable of it, but he had to keep trying.

A sound made him glance over and he was surprised to see the Russian by his side. He’d followed him inside? 

“I will take left,” the Russian said, making his way down the left side of the damaged building; looking for any signs of Theseus.

Percival headed for the right side and he’d barely taken a couple of steps when something caught his attention. There was blood on the wall.  
“Over here,” he called out, moving over to yank away what had been a part of a church pew.

Theseus was sitting slumped against the wall, clearly unconscious or worse. He was bleeding badly from where the back of his head had impacted against the stone wall. In addition, his left arm was clearly broken and there were splinters from the pew in his chest.

“Nonono,” Percival whispered, reaching out to check for a pulse. He felt a sickening wave of relief as there was a weak thump. Still alive then, but maybe not for long. He’d never forgive him if he died!

The Russian crouched down next to them, clearly worried at the sight as well. “Not good.”

“We need to get him to a hospital,” Graves said, wondering if he dared to disapparate them, but froze when the Russian took a hold of his shoulder with a firm grip. He was about to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing and point out that they had no time to waste, but found that the man was staring at something behind them. Someone standing a short distance away.  
A small girl, no more than eight years old, wearing dirty clothes and crying, was staring at them.

“I will get her,” the Russian said, voice gentle.

Instinct made Percival reach out and grab his shoulder in turn, preventing him from getting up. “No.”

The Russian sent him an annoyed look. “Why? Just a girl.”

“Not just a girl,” Graves answered, not taking his eyes off her. He recognized how she seemed to hum with energy. “She’s an Obscurial.”

Nadder was too cowardly to take on Graves in a duel again, knowing he’d only get beaten into a pulp again, and there was no way he could defeat Credence’s Obscurus! So, instead, he’d gone after the only other person Graves cared about. And decided to kill him in such a way that he would think of Theseus’ death every time he looked at Credence.

-

“Go,” Percival said, quietly.

“What?” The Russian sent him a confused glare. “I am not leaving. Mr. Scamand-dur is hurt. You need my help.”

“There is nothing you can do,” Graves continued in a low voice, still not taking his eyes off the girl. “We can’t fight her. We’d need more Aurors. Just get out of here before she turns.”

“No.”

“Dammit,” Percival snarled, about to order him out, but that was when what he feared would happen did in fact happen.

Black smoke started to radiate from the girl and she made a half-strangled sound before she exploded into a semi-familiar black mass. While her form was tiny compared to the majesty of Credence’s Obscurus, it was still the size of a car and it bolted towards them.

Curling himself protectively over Theseus, closing his eyes hard, Percival waited for the impact.

Instead he heard a furious roar, a roar so loud it shook the entire church, and he heard the man by his side exclaim something in Russian. Glancing back over his shoulder, Graves saw a massive black shape between them and the other Obscurus.

Shock, disbelief and relief, everything hit Percival at once.

The Russian was utterly horrified at the sight of the huge black mass. It took up half of the church and judging by how it could be trailed to the hole in the wall; they couldn’t even see all of it. He automatically pulled out his wand, but Graves reached out and forced his hand down.

“Hurt him and I’ll kill you,” Percival said.

“Hurt… him?” The Russian stared wide eyed from the black mass to Graves. “What…?”

Snarling and swirling, the girl’s Obscurus was slowly retreating under the threat of the towering black mass. Her Obscurus made a couple of advances, as if to test the much larger one, but it was met with furious roars and a flash of what seemed like red electricity inside it. 

Turning to check on Theseus again, Graves forced a faint smile to his lips. “It’s gonna be okay, Theseus. See? Credence is back. You were right. You were right and you got to rub that in, so no dying!” He swallowed hard as he gently touched the blood soaked hair, afraid to feel nothing but shattered bone if he examined him closer. “Please…” Was he still breathing?  
He turned back to the two Obscurus’ and saw the girl’s shape had retreated against a wall and was decreasing in size. Good. Percival reached out and prodded the stunned Russian to gain his attention. “Tell him I took Theseus to St. Mungo’s. Got that?”

Shaking his head, the Russian stuttered something.

“St. Mungo’s!” Graves repeated impatiently. “Just tell him!”

“Tell who?” The Russian yelled, but then Graves and Theseus had already disapparated. He blinked before slowly glancing over towards where the black mass had been hovering.  
He was surprised to see a dark haired man cradling the young girl in his arms.

-

The healers at St. Mungo’s took one look at Theseus and went into full red alert. They disapparated him away to a room where they could do their work and Percival was left to sit and wait.

Time passed and he was getting anxious. He did not like how he had gotten no news on Theseus’ condition or how Credence had not shown up yet. Graves had recognized Credence’s Obscurus at once, there was nothing like it in the world, but did he remember?

Had Lakewater’s attack triggered his memory? If that was the case, why wasn’t he there? And what was taking them so damn long to fix Theseus? (He refused to consider any other outcome.)

Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity, the door opened and Credence walked into the room, followed by the Russian.

Getting up on his feet, Percival felt both nervous and excited at the sight of his partner. “Credence…” The young man looked calm, but he was dangerously pale and looked completely exhausted.

Credence didn’t answer, merely walked over and wrapped his arms around him.

Graves didn’t hesitate and wrapped his own arms around the younger man, hugging him close.

“How is he?” Credence asked, slightly muffled against his chest.

“I don’t know,” Percival sighed. “They haven’t told me anything. They took him away and I’ve been waiting since…” He pulled back a little, needing to look into Credence’s eyes. “How are you…?”

Giving a faint smile, Credence nodded. “I’m getting there. I’m still a little fuzzy on details, but I remember.” He petted his chest and stepped back. “I’ll tell you later.”

Graves let him take a step away, but took a hold of his wrist and kept him close. He then glanced over at the Russian. “What are you doing here?”

That earned him a defensive look for some reason. “I wanted to make sure Mr. Scaman-dur is well.”

“Why did you let him go alone into that church?” Graves asked in a sharp tone. “Why didn’t you go with him?”

The Russian’s face went from defensive to angry and he took a step closer, squaring his shoulders as if they were gearing up for a fist-fight. “Because he ordered me not to. I did not know there was such danger.”

Squaring his shoulders as well, Graves scoffed. “There had been an explosion, but you didn’t think it would be dangerous? Is that how you do things in Russia?”

The two moved further towards each other and Credence stepped in between them. “Enough!” 

That was when a very serious looking healer apparated in the room. “Right, who is here for Theseus Scamander?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a boo-boo earlier by referring to someone of the medical profession as a 'doctor', but in the HP universe they are referred to as 'healers', so I had to correct that.   
> And I said he was too nice, didn't I?? Never pays to be that nice!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence remembers, but Theseus doesn't!

Theseus was floating merrily on a cloud of numb apathy, compliments of the pain potion the healer had given him before leaving the room. He suspected, objectively, that he was hurt and probably in agony, but he couldn’t care less at the moment.  
Nope. Everything was absolutely smashing!

He absently noticed the door to his room opening, and the sight of Percival Graves entering the room replaced the numb fuzziness with happy fuzziness. “Hey!” Theseus tried to reach out for him, but the stupid arm was heavy and weighed down by something. It looked like a cast, for some reason.

“Theseus,” Percival said and his voice sounded strange. Almost emotional. He came over by the bed and Theseus used his other hand, the one not being stupid, to reach over to grab a hold of his jacket. (Always so fancily dressed! Nice! He loved that about Percy! That, and a whole bunch else!)  
“Percy!”

“Yeah,” Graves smiled a little, placing his hand over his. “It’s me.”

Tugging at him, Theseus frowned. “Are you okay? You look upset.” There were possibly a few syllables missing in there. “What’s wrong? Can I help?”

Percival breathed a laugh and sat down on the edge of the bed, taking his hand between his. (That felt really nice.) “Yeah, you can get well.”

“I’m not?” Theseus frowned. He was hurt? That sucked and it was a bit unsettling. “I’m not okay?”

“No,” Percival whispered, leaning forward until he gently rested his forehead against his and closed his eyes. (That was even nicer!) “No, and I am _so_ sorry about that. But you will be, right?”

“Okay,” Theseus answered, seeing no reason why he shouldn’t do what Percy told him. Then did what he’d dreamed about since the day he first saw Percival Graves; he leaned up and kissed him.

He felt him start at the feeling, (Which was understandable as it was an awesome feeling!) but then Percy relaxed and kissed him back for just the briefest of moments, before he pulled away with an amused smile. “Yeah, you’ll be okay.” (He had the prettiest smile of everyone Theseus knew!)

“Looks like it,” a second voice commented and that was when Theseus noticed Credence. The young man was sending him a dry look, but he was too happy to wonder why. Credence was there!  
“Credence!” Theseus shoved Percival to the side so he could reach for Credence instead. “You’re here! It’s so good to see you! Merlin, do you remember? Please, tell me you remember!” (He really, REALLY liked Credence! And, bonus, he made Percy happy!)

Credence let out a small laugh and he took his hand with a nod. “I remember enough.” He squeezed his hand gently. “Thank you.”

Theseus tugged him closer. “Are you okay?” His head was starting to hurt. “You look pale.”

-

“Back at you,” Credence countered gently. “You got hurt pretty bad, Theseus. Don’t you remember?”

“No…” Theseus frowned. “I…” He suddenly spied the one keeping to the back of the room and released Credence to make groping motions towards the awkward Russian. “Makarov! You’re here!”

“Yes,” Makarov said, shifting uneasily. “I just wanted to…” (Awkward looked good on him.)

“Are you okay?” Theseus interrupted him as he realized where they were, letting his hand hang in the air when the man made no sign of approaching him. “You’re in a hospital, Makarov. Are you okay?” 

Blinking confused, looking to Graves and Credence as if it was a joke on his expense, Makarov finally mumbled a reply; “Yes. Yes, no hurt to me.” (That was a relief!)

“He’s fine. We’re all fine. You need to stop worrying about everybody else and start taking care of yourself,” Credence sighed, picking up Theseus’ arm and placing it on the bed. “And whatever pain potion you are on, I want some.”

Theseus shrugged. “Don’t know what it’s called…” His eyes widened slightly. “You’re in pain?” He started reaching for the call item to summon a healer. “I can ask if they can get you some…”

Credence took a hold of his arm and placed it down on the bed again. “No. No, I was just joking. I’m okay. Just… relax and get better, Theseus.”

“Better?” Theseus frowned. “I’m hurt?” He glanced down at his arm, which appeared to be in a cast, but was quickly distracted when he realized who was sitting on his bed. “Percy!” (So pretty!)

As Theseus eagerly reached out with his functional arm, Graves took a hold of his hand again with a faint smile. “Yeah, it’s still me, Theseus. I’m here.” (His touch always felt good.)

“Are you okay?” Theseus asked, seeing the concern on Percy’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m worried about my best friend,” Percival said. “He got hurt because of me. It was my fault and I hate that.”

Theseus shook his head. “Can’t be that bad. I’ll talk to him.” (Percy would not be sad if there was anything he could do about it! Nope!)

“I’d appreciate that.” Smiling, Graves reached out and brushed his hair back from his forehead with a light touch. 

Theseus frowned slightly at the sensation of something between his skin and Percy’s fingertips. (Was he wearing a flipping bandana? Why in Morgana’s name was he wearing a bandana?) He reached up to touch whatever was wrapped around his head, but Percy quickly intervened and made him lower his hand again.  
Now that he thought about it, Theseus realized his head was really hurting. And he was slightly dizzy… and nauseous… 

“You look tired,” Credence’s voice said and Theseus was surprised to find him there by the bed. Why was Credence there? Had he gotten his memory back? (Sweet!)

“Get some rest,” Percival ordered, getting up and pausing by his side. “I’ll be back tomorrow, ok?”

“Okay,” Theseus echoed. He smiled widely at the sight of Makarov in the background. “It’s good to see you outside of the office! I like you!” (Awkward really looked good on the man!)

-

Graves glared at the flustered Russian as he mumbled something about hoping he’d see Theseus back at the office soon and he kept glaring until he had left. Credence lingered a moment longer, promising Theseus that he would look after ‘Percy’ and, yes, he did remember his promise.

“I’ll be outside,” Credence said to Graves, placing a light hand to his arm before leaving the room.

Drawing a deep breath, Percival stepped closer to the bed, looking down at Theseus and felt the suffocating guilt take hold of him again. Despite the sleepy smile on the man’s lips, it was hard to ignore the bandage around his head, still stained with blood as they had to heal him little by little to monitor the progress. They were worried about swelling and lasting damages…  
The healers said he was lucky to be alive with such a severe skull fracture. Luck, verging on miracle.

Theseus’s face was pale, deathly pale, and there was an unnatural stillness to him. His arm would be healed by tomorrow, so the cast could come off, same with the wounds in his torso from the debris, but at the moment he looked so battered and broken that it was physically painful to look at. Especially as Graves knew it was his fault.

Nadder had gone after Theseus because he wanted to hurt Graves, and if Percival had been but a minute later to the scene; the girl’s Obscurus would have drained Theseus of life and left him covered with the trademark scars in its wake.  
Percival Graves could not protect anyone. He couldn’t protect himself from Ben, he couldn’t protect Credence from Grindelwald’s attack and he clearly could not protect Theseus from Nadder. 

“I’m sorry,” Graves whispered, smiling a little wistfully when a puzzled Theseus asked whatever for. The healers had warned them that the patient’s short-term memory would be dodgy. “I’ll tell you tomorrow,” he promised. “Get some sleep, Theseus.”

“Okay,” Theseus replied in a light voice.

It was hard to step away, Percival couldn’t shake some irrational fear that this would be the last time he’d see Theseus, that his injuries would act up during the night and he’d die after all, but the Brit was asleep before he was even by the door and he only lingered to watch him a few seconds longer.  
Gathering himself, drawing a deep breath, Graves exited the door and stepped outside.

Credence glanced up from where he was sitting on a chair. The Russian was nowhere to be seen.

“He went back to the Ministry,” Credence said, as if he could read his mind. (Percival wouldn’t be surprised he was capable of it after spending so much time with him.) He got up and sighed. “I brought the girl to the Ministry and I spoke to Newt. He’s on his way here with Tina. You and me, we are going to head back to our apartment. We need to talk.”

Percival tensed up. He did not like the sound of that!

-

They apparated in their apartment and the familiar sight of it made Graves even more uncomfortable. This place reminded him of a time when things were good. He did not want to lose that.  
“You wanted to talk?” He muttered.

Credence shed his jacket and pulled off Percival’s as well. “Yeah. Sit.” He went to hang up the coats.

Sitting down in his favorite chair, avoiding the sofa where Credence could trap him, Graves tried to appear neutral when the younger man approached him. He could tell by the frown on Credence’s face that he knew why he’d chosen the chair instead of the sofa; still trying to keep distance between them.

He was not prepared for how Credence merely moved forward and straddled him in a smooth move.  
Percival inhaled sharply and automatically his hands went up to Credence’s waist, but they were slapped away and forced to hover mid-air instead. 

“Now, I am going to talk and you are going to listen, okay?” Credence said.

A little stunned by the turn of events, Graves merely nodded. Clearly the boy’s memories were back!

“First of all, I want to apologize for grabbing your hair,” Credence began, quickly shaking his head as Graves inhaled to speak. “No. I said; listen. So, yeah, I’m sorry I did that, but in my defense; I didn’t remember. I know you told me to never to that and I did it, so I’m sorry. I also forgive you for scaring the daylights out of me with your reaction and throwing me out on my ass.”

Percival was tense as iron with the need to interfere, but he remained quiet.

“Secondly, I…” Credence said, shifting a little closer and once again slapped Graves’ hands away when they went to his waist again. “No touching. I’m angry with you. You don’t get to touch.”

Confused, Graves forgot all about staying quiet. “But you just said…” 

A finger landed on his lips and Credence leaned a little closer. “Shush.”

Percival Graves could not believe he was being shushed. If anyone did any shushing, it was always him!

“Secondly, I remember the guy attacking us in Italy,” Credence continued, as if he’d never been interrupted, “but when I woke up in Newt’s apartment, I thought I’d gone to bed in New York and I woke up in England; surrounded by strangers. And this one particular stranger, a handsome bastard, decided to kick me out as fast as he could.” He tapped his finger on Graves’ lips as he was about to speak. “No.”  
Credence then sighed. “I couldn’t remember, but I couldn’t forget about you either. I needed you and you sent me away! You said you’d never let anyone take away what is yours. You lied?”

Percival twisted away from his finger and couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Of course not! But… you could have had the life you were meant to have! Everyone thought you were dead, you didn’t remember; you were free! You could find a new place in the world; one where you’d be safe.”

-

“My place is with you!” Credence insisted a little angrily.

“You got hurt _because_ you were with me!” Graves countered with equal amount of frustration. “I watched you die, damn you! Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same for me!”

Unable to contradict that, Credence frowned unhappily. “Does this mean you intend to cut Theseus out of your life too?”

“Maybe I should!” Graves said with a touch of anger. “It’s not safe.”

“That’s not your choice to make,” Credence informed him softly. “You don’t get to choose. Not for me. Not for him. We love you and you’re stuck with us.”

“I don’t want to lose either of you,” Percival admitted, abruptly disarmed by Credence’s words.

“You won’t,” Credence promised. Then he frowned thoughtfully. “Well, except maybe if he kisses you again. I may have to kill him then.”

Snorting a surprised laugh, Graves glanced to the side and was embarrassed to feel a light flush rise to his face at the memory. “Don’t be mean, Credence. He had no idea what he was doing.” He looked back up at him. “I thought I had lost you… When I got you back, all I could think about was keeping you safe. As long as you were safe, I could live with the fact that you didn’t remember me.”

“Promise me you will never send me away again,” Credence insisted, leaning forward to give him the gentlest of kisses. 

“Don’t ask that of me,” Percival said, meeting his lips and then sighed as his hands were yet again slapped away when he tried to touch him.

“Promise me,” Credence kept insisting, and this time he added a lazy roll with his hips.

Instantly, Graves felt himself respond to that teasing move. “Credence…”

“Promise.” Credence brushed his lips over his, continuing to roll his hips in a gentle and teasing rhythm, but would not let Percival place his hands on him.

It was difficult to think with all of his blood relocating to settle below his belt, thanks to the weight and movement of Credence, and Graves realized with wry amusement that the boy was using his own techniques against him. (Though, he’d never been cruel enough to deny Credence touching him.)  
Manipulation aside, Graves knew this was one fight Credence would win, simply because he would not stop insisting until he got what he wanted. It was a bittersweet defeat. “I promise.”

-

Credence remembered the attack in Italy. He remembered his firm determination to protect Percival, that Grindelwald did NOT get to take him away from Credence, but once the light hit and the pain started… Credence didn’t remember what happened next, until he woke up in Newt’s apartment.  
He understood that Percival had gone through a tough time, fearing he was dead and having Credence’s Obscurus slowly draining him of life, but he could not forget how lonely and confused he’d been when he woke up to a world that didn’t make sense, and the man he instinctively knew would mean safety would have nothing to do with him. 

The worst part was that if it came to it, if Credence had to give up Percival to keep him safe, he wouldn’t hesitate either. So, yeah, he understood, but that didn’t mean he felt like gaining a little control back after ages of chaos.  
And right now, having this beautiful man, this powerful and intimidating man, hard and at his mercy; it suited Credence perfectly.

He kissed him again, unbuttoning his shirt while doing so, and reveled in the sight of the powerful chest that rose with every uneven breath. Percival’s skin felt every bit as warm and enticing as he remembered it and his touch was only interrupted when Credence had to remove Graves’ hands when they took a hold of Credence’s hips.

He wished he could have preserved the frustrated sound Percival made, so he could listen to it over and over again.

Kissing, touching and constantly moving against him, Credence also savored how Graves met his lips with increasing fierceness, how his hips jerked up to meet his impatiently, and just how tense his body felt. The hands that would usually have Credence reduced to a panting and whimpering mess were clenching and unclenching in silent need to do a little claiming of their own. 

It would take so little for Percival to turn the tables. All he had to do was disregard Credence’s word and Graves would have him at his mercy within an embarrassingly short time.

Yet, Credence knew how intently Percival was set on never doing anything against his will when it came to this. For some reason, that had always been extremely important to him. And now, Credence was using it against him.

It almost made him feel petty, but he so rarely got to make Percival look like this; wound up and almost vibrating with frustrated need, and he forgot all about guilt and merely tried to memorize it all. Even the rush of releasing the Obscurus paled compared to the feeling of having Percival Graves under his control.

When Credence slid down to kneel between Graves’ legs and opened his pants to put his mouth on him, it only took a couple of licks before Percival couldn’t take it anymore.

“For fuck’s sake,” Graves ground out angrily, “I need to touch you. Let me touch you, dammit.”

Looking up at him, smiling the smile of a saint, Credence held his almost black stare for a couple of seconds and then… he nodded.

Groaning with relief, Percival reached out and moved to drop to his knees as well and was soon on him like an Obscurus made out of pure want and Credence was only too happy to fall victim to it.

This was how they were meant to be. This was how things made sense. He reveled in the feeling, when they ended up on the bed, of how Percival’s hands and mouth knew exactly where to touch, caress and kiss, and the desperation behind it. The pleasure-pain when Percival pushed into him, a little too hard and a little too fast, it was so perfect that Credence could barely breathe.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graves has no mercy when it comes to revenge!

Ages later, as their bodies forced them to rest before they could start it up again, Credence and Percival spent time telling the other what had happened on each side while they had been separated.

Percival grew tense when Credence told him about Lakewater’s attack, guilt rearing its ugly head again, so Credence curled a little closer to remind him that the attack had failed and he was still there. He told him about the confused Obscurial-girl who barely spoke English.

“How did you manage to get there and save my ass in the Oratory?” Graves asked. 

“After Newt left with the healer, grandmother tried to insist that I needed rest after the ordeal. I knew I couldn’t rest until I knew you were safe, so I made her bring me to the Ministry. We met Newt and he told me what had happened. It wasn’t hard to persuade him to go to the Oratory, even after you’d ordered him to stay. It was his brother, after all.” Credence reached up to gently trail two fingers over Percival’s lips. “When I saw the Obscurial attack you, I just reacted. I can’t even remember changing or starting to remember, I just did.” It had all fallen into place. Just like that.

“Does it hurt?” Percival frowned a little. “When I… It hurt, using your powers. I don’t want you to use it if it hurts you.”

Shaking his head, Credence moved to slump on top of his chest. “It doesn’t hurt.” He wondered how he could explain the feeling. “It’s like… stretching, after a really long day, and a triple coffee.”

Reassured he’d not unknowingly put Credence through torture, Graves relaxed again.

They lazed in a comfortable silence for a while, but eventually Credence tapped a thoughtful finger on Graves’ chest. “I sent an owl to grandmother, but we have to go there soon to let her know I’m not going to be staying there anymore.”

Percival made an unhappy grunt. “Why? Just send another owl.”

Credence pinched him and was satisfied with the answering squirm it caused. “Be nice. She saved my life.”

“Fine.” Graves grumped. 

Hesitating, Credence had to gather his courage for the next request. “One more thing…”

“What?”

“The Obscurial…” Credence couldn’t forget the terrified little girl. “I want to talk to her…”

“Credence…” Percival did not sound delighted at the prospect.

“She’s just a little girl,” Credence said. “This wasn’t her fault.”

“No, it was Nadder’s fault,” Graves agreed. “But she’s still dangerous.”

“Not to me.”

“I’ll think about it.”

-

When Graves and Credence returned to St. Mungo’s the next day, the healers delivered the devastating news; Theseus was dead. 

They couldn’t save him. The injury was too severe and there was nothing they could do when his condition abruptly declined. Newt stared at the healers in mute shock, hugging a teary eyed Tina. Credence paled and covered his mouth with both hands to smother a sob.

Percival couldn’t breathe. The grief was too much. He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t breathe!

He… couldn’t… breathe!

“Percival. Percival, hey.” A voice was calling his name, gently, almost as careful as the hands touching his face. “Percival…”

Waking with a start, Graves gasped for air and scrambled to sit up. 

“Percival!” Credence sat up as well, a hand on Graves’ shoulder. “Look at me. It was just a dream!”

Continuing to gulp down air, Percival stared wide eyed at the younger man until his brain caught up with the words. Just a dream!  
Shoulders slumping, Graves lifted his hands to rub at his face in an effort to ground himself in reality again. Just a dream…

“Are you okay?” Credence asked, carefully inching closer. “What can I do?”

“Just a dream…” Percival mumbled, trying to reassure himself. He eventually lowered his hands and looked over at the concerned Credence. “I have to make sure. I need to see him.”

Nodding, Credence put it together. “Theseus.” He nodded again. “Okay, let’s go.”

Thirty minutes later, they walked into the hospital room and found a very much alive Theseus Scamander blinking surprised and then grinning happily at the sight of them. “Percy! Credence!” He then frowned a little. “Does… this mean Credence remembers?”

Brushing by Percival, Credence laughed a little and walked over to his side. “Yes. For the third time; I remember. I can’t believe I’m the one who gets hassled over a bad memory when I got to keep reminding you!”

Theseus made an apologetic face. “Sorry. Seems like I was a bit out of it, last time you were here.”

He was still pale and had a thin bandage around his head, but the bandages on his torso and the cast on his arm was gone, much to Graves’ relief.  
Percival moved over as well and was about to ask him how he was doing, when he noticed a chessboard by his bed. Frowning, he stared at it. “Chess?”

“Yeah,” Theseus brightened even more. “Makarov kept me company earlier. The man is ruthless. He only let the patient win once!” He then shook his head a little, baffled. “Newt and Tina are coming back later. Several Aurors sent owls that they want to come by too. Even Mr. Fawley sent chocolate!”

Graves stared at him, marveling over the fact that the man really did not know, had truly no idea, how important he was to a lot of people. Including Percival. Especially Percival.  
“When are they letting you out of this place?” Graves asked.

“Tomorrow,” Theseus said. “Unless this last healing goes horribly wrong and I die!” He snorted a laugh at how ironic that would be, but then saw neither Credence or Percival found it amusing and he cleared his throat before continuing. “They, ah, said I can expect headaches and should take it easy for a couple of days, but other than that, I’ll be good to go!”

Drawing a deep breath and deciding to jump into it, Percival forced the words out; “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me. I won’t let Nadder get away with it.”

“Don’t…” Theseus began before he huffed with frustration and turned his attention to Credence. “Do not let him pull this kind of garbage, yeah? Tell your Mr. Graves that I am a big boy and I can look after myself, that risk comes with my job and that he’s not responsible for the bat-shit craziness of others. Only his own.”

Graves was slightly annoyed at how Credence and Theseus shared a laugh at his expense, but he was so relieved that the man was obviously going to be fine that he decided to let it slide…

“Oh, hey, you guys got to try this chocolate Fawley sent! It’s brilliant!”

-

“So you remember?”

Credence squirmed a little in front of Regina Broadchurch. “Well, I remember what happened between leaving America to the, uhm, accident I got hurt in.” He knew what she was so desperately hoping for and it was awful that he couldn’t give it to her; memories of her daughter.

“But nothing else?” Regina asked. “Nothing… before that?” When he shook his head, she tried to hide her disappointment. “That’s okay. I… I read there are healers who specialize in memory loss. There are spells that can bring forth suppressed memories and…”

“Not going to happen,” Graves interfered. He glared back at her sharp glance his way. “They are not going to mess with Credence’s mind just so you can ease your conscience!”

“I would think the boy would like to remember his mother,” Regina shot back, more than a little edge to her voice as well.

“You are not messing with Credence’s brain and that’s final!” Percival grabbed Credence’s wrist. “And we’re leaving.”

“I’m sorry,” Credence shot in, still feeling strangely guilty. “M-maybe I just need a little more time for that to emerge as well?” He would have loved to remember his mother, not just for Regina, but for his own peace of mind.  
Had his mother loved him? Had she treated him with kindness or indifference? His childhood memories consisted mostly of unease, fear and the harsh kiss of the belt, but what if it hadn’t always been so? What if Violetta ‘did’ love him and treated him kindly; he would hate for Mary Lou to steal that away from him too!

“He’s MY grandchild!” Regina kept her eyes on Graves. “You do not get to decide what he does.”

Percival gave a small and cold smile. “He may or may not be your grandchild, Broadchurch, but Credence is _mine_. Never doubt that.”  
Before Credence could say or do much about anything, Graves had disapparated them and suddenly they apparated in their apartment.

Credence pulled free from his grasp with a frustrated sound. “Great. Thanks for that! She’s not going to worry herself sick now!”

Percival stalked closer to him, taking his face between his hands and leaning in close to stare at him with those dark, hypnotic eyes. “I don’t give a damn what that woman does. I am going to make you change into your fine suit and then take you out for dinner at your favorite restaurant.”

Swallowing hard, Credence couldn’t break away from that stare. “What? Why?”

“Several reasons,” Graves said with a razor sharp smile. “Because I haven’t had a real meal since Italy. Because I want to dress you up and show you off. Because tomorrow we have to go back to work and find that bastard Nadder.” The smile widened a little. “And because we’re going to need all the energy we can get for the things I am planning to do to you later.”

Realizing he was not going to win Grandson Of The Year Award, Credence shivered under that stare and that heavy promise. Dammit, stronger wizards had buckled under such a lure, surely?? “This is blatant manipulation and you know it.”

“Yeah. Something you seemed to have acquired a taste for. You honestly didn’t think I was going to let that No-Touching thing you did go unpunished, did you?” Percival tutted. “Now, go.”

Credence made a silent vow to make it up to his grandmother later, before he eagerly ran off to change without any more objections.

-

The meal was fantastic, as always. Being the target of Graves’ hungry gaze was beyond fantastic, as always. The anticipation building up as the hours dragged on was torture, as always!  
Credence only felt a flicker of concern, hours later, when he was gasping and whimpering and verging on tears, that Percival Graves honestly meant to kill him this time.  
Credence had been the one to instigate things when they got back to the apartment, only fitting as Percival had spent the entire meal hinting and teasing at what he had in store, but it had not taken long before Graves was the one in control again.

Graves had moved his hands above his head, pushed them against the mattress and told him to keep them there. Every time Credence forgot himself or couldn’t take it anymore, and reached out to touch him; Graves would maneuver his hands back over his head and refuse to move or do anything until Credence promised he’d keep them there.  
Percival seemed to go all in to make Credence forget himself, manipulating his every weak spot with hungry lips or nimble fingers. He’d click his tongue with reprove whenever he got his way and Credence’s control snapped, but also made no attempt to hide the satisfied smirk on his face.

There was no doubt that Graves wanted Credence every bit as much, but the man’s stubbornness was from another dimension. 

Credence was just about to accuse him of actually trying to murder him when Graves’ mouth wrapped around him and half a second later Credence was arching off the bed with a mute scream. He shuddered and shook through his completion, too intense for his brain to work, and he was almost relieved when he was allowed to sink into a boneless mess.

His relief was short-lived as he realized Percival was far from done with him.

Graves worked him back up, it felt like the heat from his skin seeped into Credence’s and infected him with his unreleased tension, and they both forgot about him being supposed to keep his hands off when Percival finally gave him more than his hands and his mouth.

Clutching hard at the sweaty skin, Credence panted against Graves’ shoulder while he was being pushed towards his second climax. He heard Percival make a pained hiss when Credence bit into that shoulder, but he was too far gone to care. Graves’ release was only faintly registered in the aftermath of his own.

For once, Credence didn’t object when Graves pulled away to lie next to him, merely tried to catch his breath and make his brain functional again. “Wow…” He eventually mumbled.

Percival made a grunt of agreement, but glanced over at him after a moment of rest. “But next time, I’ll make you come three times.”

Blinking startled, Credence turned to look at him with a touch of apprehension. “I can’t. Seriously, Percival, you nearly killed me here!”

Graves frowned, reaching out to draw light fingers through his black hair. “Liar. I didn’t even see the Obscurus.”

It took two seconds for Credence to realize he was right and he sat up abruptly. Staring at his own hands, Credence reached inwards and searched for the Obscurus. He could feel it there, its cold presence, but it was curled up into a tiny fragment at his core and reluctant to move. It was almost as if it was hibernating. 

Percival sat up as well, uneasy. “Something wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Credence mumbled. “The Obscurus… It is acting strange. Like it is sleeping.”

Considering the words, Graves eventually inched closer and pulled Credence into a supportive embrace. “It was hurt pretty badly in Italy. It took a while for it to restore you and I’m guessing it used whatever power it had regained to emerge in the Oratory and save me. Let it rest.”

Strangely uncertain, Credence hunched his shoulders slightly. “You don’t mind? I mean, I know how much it means to you…”

Percival nudged him to look at him and raised his eyebrows when he did. “I won’t deny the Obscurus fascinates me, I won’t insult you intelligence claiming otherwise, but it can’t compare to how much you fascinate me, okay? I just need you.”

Flushing, equal parts happy and embarrassed, Credence nodded with a shy smile.

-

Graves was a little relieved to be back at the office the next day and he didn’t waste any time in starting to track down Nadder. He owed him for the days of torture, but exposing Credence to danger and trying to kill Theseus? The man had just signed his own death-warrant!

He was so deep into his work that he was completely unprepared for when there was a knock on his door and Theseus entered before he could even open his mouth.

Frowning, Percival leaned back in his chair and studied the man. “What are you doing here? I thought they weren’t going to release you until this afternoon? And aren’t you supposed to be taking it easy?” He did not like how pale Theseus was, even if the bandages were gone.  
His mood did not improve when the Russian entered his office as well.

“I persuaded the healers persuasively to let me go a little earlier,” Theseus declared with a smarmy grin. He moved over to place his hands on Graves’ desk and leaned forward to eye him seriously. “I need a judge.”

“A… judge?” Percival wondered if the healers had made a mistake in releasing Theseus. The man was obviously rambling nonsense. Why in Morgana’s name had the Russian allowed the man to leave St. Mungo’s in this state?

“A judge!” Theseus confirmed, while the Russian rolled his eyes in the background. Theseus leaned even closer towards Graves. “Did you know Makarov was a sniper during the war too? And now the man claims he is a better shot than me! Surely you can understand that I cannot let such a statement slide?”

Okay, that was rather unexpected. Graves hesitated, then put his pen down and shrugged. “I’ve seen you shoot, Theseus. No one is better than you. There. Problem solved. Now, get back to St. Mungo’s before you pass out and ruin my carpet.”

Theseus clicked his tongue. “Nice try, Percy, but my honor must be defended! Is Credence back too? Yes? Awesome. I’ll get him! Two judges are better than one, in case Makarov bribes you!”

Before Percival could object, Theseus was out the door, which left Graves with only one option; he glared at the Russian. “Why are you letting him do this?”

The Russian sent him a dry look. “You know him. You try to change his mind. Impossible.”

“Just tell him he’s the better shot,” Graves scoffed.

That got him a narrow eyed look. “He is not.”

“Listen, I watched him shoot during the war. You’re not better than him. No one is.” Graves said, returning to glaring at the other man.

“Then we shall have to see,” Makarov replied, not backing down one inch.

The following glaring contest was then interrupted by Theseus dragging a bewildered Credence into the office and declaring they were going to the shooting range!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The better sniper is revealed and Graves' blood is spilled.

To say Credence was confused would be the understatement of the year.  
One moment he was in his office, trying to catch up on what had happened in his absence, then Theseus had come bustling in and more or less kidnapped him and here he was at a No-Maj shooting range to judge which one was the better marksman!

To make matters even more confusing; Percival seemed set on supporting this crazy stunt. He had obliviated the No-Maj who owned the place and locked it down so they could have their little competition in private. Now, Theseus coming up with something this crazy did not surprise Credence, but Graves? Usually he would be the voice of reason! Even Makarov seemed fine with it!

Lunacy aside, it was still kind of cool to watch how the former soldiers handled the weapons with ease and Credence noted how Theseus appeared to be in his proper element. Gone was the cheerful demeanor and restless body language, holding the sniper rifle; Theseus was completely calm and focused. His hands ran almost lovingly over the deadly weapon.  
(In contrast, Captain Makarov checked his weapon with efficient moves and a deadpan expression.)

Wasting no time, the two was soon ready to start shooting and even Credence wasn’t immune to the excitement in the air. He wasn’t overly fond of the weapons, but it was fun to watch as Theseus and Captain Makarov fired off round after round with frightful accuracy. He could barely see some of the targets, but they would hit them.

And Theseus would hit dead center every damn time.

Studying the man further, he found that not only was the smile was gone from Theseus’ face; his pupils were dilated with the anticipation of a kill, and suddenly Credence recognized just how dangerous Theseus could be. Did he refrain from using these weapons because he liked it too much?

Where Graves wrapped his rough exterior around a soft core, Theseus obviously hid a predator inside a lovable front. It probably made sense that even he had a dark side to him. It was just unexpected. He always seemed so gentle…

Credence glanced over at Percival and found him staring at Theseus as well, but with an awe-inspired hunger as the rifle was fired; a hunger which was usually reserved for the Obscurus. Clearly Graves wasn’t drawn to dark magic, but extremely lethal creatures.

His thoughts were further derailed when he noticed that Graves wasn’t the only one who was looking at Theseus with fascination. Despite how he was losing, though not by much, Captain Makarov was clearly enthralled with the Brit as well.

Credence had suspected as much back at St. Mungo’s, but this confirmed it. When the man accepted defeat with grace and congratulated Theseus, Credence concluded that he rather liked the Captain. Anyone who could lose a bet and not be a sore about it was bound to be a decent guy!

While Makarov carried the rifles away, Credence went over to congratulate Theseus. (He was relieved to the see the man back to his apparently harmless self.) “Congratulations.”

-

Theseus grinned. “Thank you kindly!” He leaned closer to whisper; “I haven’t had to work that hard for a win on the shooting range since my training days!”

“I hope you are as graceful about winning as Makarov was about losing,” Credence said with a slight smile, which turned into a laugh at how the Brit gave a non-committing shrug and a devious smirk.

Credence was about to ask what he’d won when several things happened at once. First, he heard Percival’s voice say something, sharp and mocking, and then Theseus’ eyes widened. Credence spun around just in time to see Makarov pulling his hand back and punching Graves with all of his considerable might.

Both Credence’s and Theseus’ jaws dropped at the sight of Graves being sent into a half-spin by the force of the punch. When he turned back, Percival was clutching his jaw with a split lip that was bleeding badly, and his dark eyes were absolutely furious. 

“Don’t…” Theseus began, but by then both Graves and Makarov had pulled out their wands and had entered a battle stance. Flustered, Theseus stared over at Credence and waved his hands with frustration. “Do something! Summon the Obscurus or whatever! Make them stop!”

Sighing, Credence cringed as the first spells flew and were deflected between the two combatants. “This has nothing to do with me.”

“What do you mean?” Theseus asked, shuffling along as Credence dragged him closer to the duel. 

“It’s not me they’re fighting over,” Credence stated, then promptly shoved Theseus between them. 

Theseus sent him an almost comical stare of betrayal as he flailed into the line of fire, before he instinctively curled in on himself in dreaded anticipation for the spells to hit him. Five seconds later, when no spells were fired, the man slowly uncurled and glanced at Graves, then Makarov and finally at Credence. “Not funny!”

Percival had his wand pulled back, clearly mid-casting, but slowly lowered it as he did not want to risk hitting Theseus. Makarov did the same. Neither seemed any less angry with the other, but at least the physical fighting had stopped.

Credence sent Theseus a shrug. “It was a little funny.” He walked over to stand in front of Percival, waiting for him to look at him. “We’re going home.”

Percival opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, but ended up with a faint nod. He pocketed his wand and glanced over at Theseus. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Coward!” Makarov snarled, clearly not done with the argument. 

When Makarov then took a step forward; Theseus darted over to him and placed a hand against his chest to stop him. Then he sent Graves a smile. “Later, Percy!” 

Credence put his hand on Graves and disapparated them away.

-

When they apparated in the apartment, Credence released him and took a step away to send him an annoyed stare. “And what was that about?”

“He started it!” Percival shot back, lifting a hand to heal his split lip. “I can’t believe that damn Russian punched me like some damn No-Maj!”

Credence lifted an eyebrow. “Well, what did you say to him?”  
The way Percival froze for a second told Credence everything he needed to know .

Graves recovered quickly and scoffed. “He was just being a sore loser!”

“No, he wasn’t,” Credence countered, studying Graves with a thoughtful frown. “You don’t like him. You don’t like him because Theseus likes him. But this isn’t the first person Theseus has shown interest in, heaven knows the man does not live like a puritan, so are you acting like this? Why is Makarov different?”

“Because I don’t trust him!” Percival growled, clearly defensive.

Still not convinced, Credence crossed his arms and leaned against the sofa. “You never trusted him. Why provoke him into a fight now? You can’t seriously blame him for what happened at the Oratory? Theseus told him to wait outside. That wasn’t Makarov’s fault.”

Only his experience in reading Percival Graves’ miniscule body-language allowed Credence to pick up on the tiny, barely existent flinch, a move others wouldn’t have noticed at all. He’d obviously hit close to the mark.

“Percival,” Credence sighed, moving over to cup his face between his hands. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened either.”

Hesitating, Graves finally exhaled and reached up to pull his hands down to hold them between his own. “Every day I wake up, every time I go to sleep, I do so with the fear of losing you. I know how powerful you are, but you are not immortal. And even if your body was, your mind isn’t. I gave up my career, my entire life’s work and even my freedom, to keep you safe and it was a sacrifice I would easily make all over again. I can handle losing everything, but I can’t handle losing you.”

Confused and yet aching with affection, Credence clutched his hands tight. 

“I constantly worry about losing you,” Graves continued, his voice a little absent and soft now, “and despite all the years I’ve known him since the war; it never _once_ occurred to me that I could lose Theseus.” He smiled with a touch of contempt for his own thinking. “After the attack on Grindelwald’s prison, where he got hurt, I somehow thought that if I was here to protect him, he’d be safe. Instead, he nearly died because I was here.”

“It’s not your job to protect us,” Credence objected softly.

Percival Graves did not hesitate. “Yes, it is.”  
And nothing would convince him otherwise.

-

After Credence and Percy had left, Theseus found himself in the company of a Russian steaming with anger and unreleased tension. Feeling bad, as Percy was his friend after all, Theseus invited Makarov back to his apartment as a peace offering.

Maybe a nice cup of tea would calm him down? (And prevent him from decking Percy again.)

Sitting on the kitchen table, watching Makarov pace back and forth, waiting for the tea to brew, Theseus couldn’t keep the grin off his face. Whatever Percy had said, it had really wound him up! This was the most vigorous he’d ever seen the man! Still waters did indeed run deep.

When the Russian saw him grinning at his state, he came to an abrupt halt and glared at him.

Theseus’ smile widened and he made no effort to hide it as he found this endlessly amusing!

Stalking over, Makarov came to a halt in front of him. His eyes were mere slits of grey and almost angry, but there was no real threat of aggression in him. No, the man was humming with a tension of a different sort. Who knew Makarov was this feisty?

Suddenly Makarov’s hand took a hold behind Theseus’ right knee and he yanked him forward until he was sitting at the very edge of the table, making him drop back on his elbows. Surprised, but still not worried, Theseus allowed the Russian to keep his hold and felt a sliver of excitement when the man lifted the knee up and then slid his hand down the leg to guide it around his waist.

Well, well, well… What had happened to the shy, little, Russian? This just turned interesting!

Theseus tightened his leg around Makarov, pulling him closer to test just how far he was willing to go with this, and there was a thrilled jolt when it made Makarov lean down and abruptly claim his lips. 

Makarov kissed like he did everything else; ruthlessly and efficiently and almost harsh. Theseus grabbed a hold of his shoulders and pulled his full weight down on him, arching his hips up in an instinctive move and was surprised when it was met with Makarov’s own hips grinding down without hesitation.

Oh, Merlin, Theseus suddenly realized how this could get dangerous…

Still, when Makarov’s mouth turned to his neck and when there was more than a little teeth involved, Theseus couldn’t even be sorry about it. No, he merely decided to show he could take whatever the Russian could dish out and still be game for more!  
It became a rush to touch, taste and move, but the hunger kept growing and growing...

He could feel how tense the other man was, how he was impatient with need and there was no mistaking the hardness close to his own, so Theseus decided to chance it. 

Grabbing a hold of Makarov’s shirt collar, he held him still and made him focus his dazed eyes on him. “Come to bed with me?” Theseus asked.

Makarov hesitated, as if he was forced to confront what he was doing by it being put into words, but after a quick consideration; he nodded. Thank Merlin for that!

Theseus pulled him down into a hungry kiss and a heartbeat later; they apparated on his bed. Makarov didn’t really seem to notice or care, merely shifted to get comfortable in the new position and then grabbed a hold of Theseus’ hips to meet his own.

“Clothes. Off.” Theseus ordered the second his brain was functional again. It had been a while since he’d done this with a man, but suddenly he wanted it more than oxygen.  
And Makarov was with him all the way, with soft gasps and muttered words in Russian.

The tea was long forgotten.

-

In an effort to shift the focus away from what had happened, Graves insisted on returning to work and there he asked if Credence still wanted to visit the Obscurial girl.

“Yes,” Credence replied, strangely nervous at the thought. 

At the Oratory, when he had returned to his human shape, he’d seen this terrified little girl and felt how similar she was to himself. Her fear, her powers, it was like looking at himself at that age. Her fragile little shape had trembled helplessly in his embrace and he could sense how fast her heart was beating. She might be an Obscurial, but she was also a little girl, and Credence knew there was no one in the Ministry except him who would remember that.

No one had come to his defense when he’d been a frightened child, but he would defend her.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Graves said, as they walked down the hallway towards the cells, “but she may not be the innocent victim you’d like her to be. We have to be careful.”

“She’s not dangerous,” Credence couldn’t quite explain why he was so certain of it, but he was.

“She picked up Theseus and slammed his head against a stone-wall so hard his skull fractured.” Graves’ voice was thick with blame and resentment. “She’s damn lucky he survived or not even you could have prevented me from killing her.”

Uncomfortable, Credence gave a little nod. “I know.” He had no doubts about that.

The girl was kept in the deepest, strongest cell and the guards seemed more than a little uneasy about their job. She had made no attempts to flee or even communicate since her capture, merely sat in her cell and stared at the walls.

Credence’s heart broke when they entered the room. “Hello,” he said in a gentle voice, trying not to scare her. “My name is Credence. Do you remember me?” It made her look up at him and Credence could see no anger in her eyes, just fear and loneliness. He knew it all too well. “What is your name?”

“Lyudmila,” the girl replied, sending the glowering Graves an anxious stare. “Will I die now?”

Shaking his head, Credence moved over to sit down next to her. “No one is going to hurt you, I promise.” He hesitated. “I just wanted to ask you why you destroyed the church and tried to kill my friend.”

Lyudmila frowned, struggling to express herself in English. “He said if I destroy church, Theseus Scamander arrives. I kill him before he kill my family.”

Credence frowned and exchanged a look with Percival before focusing on Lyudmila again. “Who told you this?”

“Mister Nadder.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graves discovers what Theseus and Makarov has been up to and Lyudmila tells her story...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little note:  
> After hearing it and realizing how well it fit, Rag'n Bone Man's song; Skin, is the song I use for writing Theseus and his relationship with Graves. Bittersweet and perfect!

Lyudmila struggled with expressing herself in English, but she reluctantly confirmed that Nadder had brought her to the Oratory and had told her to kill Theseus. She was obviously wary of both Credence and Percival, but Graves said he didn’t blame her, considering how her former host tended to treat his visitors.

Credence was reluctant to leave the cell and after Percival finally managed to drag him out, he spent the rest of the day talking about how they could help the girl. Graves dug his heels in when Credence suggested they’d ask Makarov to help with the language barrier and it took an entire evening and night to grind him down to agreeing. (Credence suspected it was mostly to make him stop nagging!)

Bright and early the next day, Percival apparated himself and Credence in Theseus’ apartment to make sure the man was still in once piece before they continued Credence’s crusade; Operation Save Lyudmila!  
Graves was already annoyed from both the nagging and the prospect of having to ask Makarov to assist them, but Credence saw how it was nothing compared to the expression on his face at the sight that met them in the aforementioned apartment.

Theseus, wearing nothing but his pants (He was far more muscular under his clothes than Credence had suspected. Nice!) and with his hair as crazy as Newt’s, was sauntering towards the kitchen. Makarov, also more than a little informally dressed; pants and a sleeveless undershirt, was seated by the dining table and sipping something from a mug There was little doubt what they’d been up to.

“Percy! Credence!” Theseus greeted them, pausing in the doorway. “I’m making tea. You guys want anything?”

“No,” Percival grumped as the same time as Credence chirped; “Tea, please!”

Credence noticed something which stirred _his_ interest and walked over to Makarov to inspect it closer; from the man’s shoulder and down his right arm there were four long scars. Blinking surprised, Credence was fascinated to meet someone else with scars, as both Percival and Theseus had flawless skin. And, most intriguing of all; Makarov didn’t seem ashamed. “I’m sorry. I’m probably terribly rude, but can I ask…?” Credence gestured to the arm. “Scars?”

The Russian glanced at his arm and gave a little shrug. “A werewolf. Claws. My second mission after becoming Auror. Almost my last mission.” He grinned. “Learned to keep my guard up after that.”

Credence sank down on the chair next to him. “It doesn’t bother you?”

Makarov shrugged again. “Just a scar. Warriors have scars.” He eyed the younger man curiously. “You have scars?”

Nodding, Credence dared a faint smile. “I was ‘blessed’ with a whole bunch of them…”

“Everyone has scars,” Makarov said, “Some just cannot be seen.”

Thinking about Percival, his nightmares and his reaction to when he’d grabbed his hair, Credence knew Makarov was right. Yet another thing to ease his own shame. “Yours look impressive though.”

Giving a quiet laugh, Makarov took a sip from his mug. “I think so too. Makes good conversation.”

-

“Him?” Percival followed Theseus into the kitchen. “Theseus, seriously, him?” 

Waving a hand to send the kettle hovering over to the sink to fill it with water, Theseus sent Graves a quick grin. “Don’t start anything. I don’t want any damn duels in my apartment, okay?”

Percival rolled his eyes and moved over to stand next to him, leaning close to make sure the Russian couldn’t overhear them. “You can’t trust him, you know that.”

Huffing, Theseus made another gesture to move the kettle over to the stove. “Don’t be silly. He’s a good guy.”

“You don’t know him!” Percival insisted angrily. “He could be a damn spy!”

Theseus snorted a laugh. “Well, if he feels like reporting back to his Ministry about the contents of my sheets, he’s more than welcome to it. Calm down, Percy. I can look after myself.”

Haunted by the image of the broken Theseus he’d found in the Oratory, Graves reached out and gently brushed a lock of ginger hair away from his face with a lingering touch. It made the other man freeze in place.

“Don’t do that,” Theseus mumbled, tensing up and staring at the floor.

Percival didn’t answer; merely let his hand slide down to move his fingertips across a telling mark on Theseus’ neck. “At St. Mungo’s, do you remember?”

Theseus swallowed hard, still unable to move. “Remember what?”

“Kissing me.”

That made Theseus start out of his apathy and he quickly glanced up to meet his gaze. There was a moment where he obviously searched his memory, but then he stopped and merely gave Graves a pleading shake of his head. “Don’t do this to me.”

“I’m just worried about you,” Percival insisted softly, lifting his hand to rest two fingers under Theseus’ chin to hold his gaze locked with his. “I nearly lost you…”

“You won’t lose me,” Theseus whispered with a strange mixture of affection and resignation. “Now, stop it. Please.”

Graves nodded, sliding his thumb lightly over Theseus’ lips as if he could erase Makarov’s presence there, before turning and leaving the kitchen. He entered the living room and saw said Russian pause his conversation with Credence to glare his way and promptly pull out a small flask from his pocket.  
Makarov opened the flask and poured some blank liquid into his mug to mix with appeared to be coffee.  
“Is that vodka?” Percival asked as he smelled spirits.

“Yes.”

“It’s seven am,” Graves pointed out.

“Yes.” Makarov took a heavy gulp from his mug before sending him a challenging stare.

Credence rolled his eyes and went out to the kitchen to see if he could help Theseus with something.

-

Entering the kitchen, Credence found Theseus standing with his back towards the doorway; with both his hands on the counter and hanging his head low. For a moment, Credence was distracted by the muscles in his back, but he quickly snapped out of it as he realized just how tense the other man was. “Hey, you okay?”

Starting slightly, Theseus straightened and glanced back at him with a cheerful smile. “Absolutely dandy!” He turned his attention over to the kettle. “Tea is just about ready!”

Credence frowned, but suspected that not even torture could make Theseus talk about things he didn’t want to talk about. Even Percival wasn’t as slippery as Theseus when it came to avoiding subjects. “Right, uhm, anything I can do to help?”

“Grab those mugs?” Theseus pointed and moved over to the boiling kettle. “We’d better hurry or those two tossers in there will burn down my bloody apartment with another duel.”

Snorting a laugh, Credence nodded his agreement and went to get the mugs. A few moments later, they entered the living room again and found Graves and Makarov glaring but thankfully not actively trying to kill the other.

Theseus sat down next to Makarov. “So what brings you here this fine morning?”

Credence found his seat next to the still glaring Percival. “I was wondering if the Captain would be willing to help me help Lyudmila. She is struggling with her English and I need to able to present her case properly if I’m going to be able to help her at all.”

Makarov frowned. “Lyudmila? The Obscurial girl?”

Glancing over at Theseus, Credence swallowed hard. “I know she hurt you, Theseus, but Nadder had convinced her that you were this evil wizard and that she had no choice!”

Theseus shook his head slightly. “Don’t worry about it. I got no problem with you helping her. She’s just a child. Being an Obscurial, I’d say that proves she’s suffered enough already.”

Credence had to force himself still and not hug Theseus half to death for his kind and understanding nature. He couldn’t prevent a glowing smile though. “Thank you.”

Theseus waved the words away and glanced over at Makarov. “What do you say? Want to join us on a little trip to the prisons and lend us your vocabulary?”

Makarov’s frown deepened and he studied Theseus. “I will help. One condition.”

“Name it,” Credence said, ignoring Percival’s eye-roll.

“You stay here,” Makarov said to Theseus. “You are not well. Take pain potion. Sleep. I will go.”

Blinking, Graves finally tore his eyes off the Russian and shifted his focus to Theseus. Credence saw the startled look on Percival’s face as he realized that due to his feud with Makarov; he’d completely failed to notice how pale and drawn his friend was. 

“I’m fine,” Theseus tried to object.

Credence made a face. “Sorry, but I’m with the Captain on this one. You don’t get to come along this time. You need to rest.”

Theseus turned to Graves in a final effort to find an ally, but Percival merely held out his hand and summoned the bottle with the pain potion from St. Mungo’s. 

-

Percival was NOT happy about the damn Russian tagging along as that meant he couldn’t stay with Theseus to make sure he was alright, but instead had to leave so the man didn’t get his greedy hands on Credence as well.

He felt a little flicker of triumph as the girl seemed even more skeptical of Makarov than she’d been of them, hearing he was Russian seemed to really rub her the wrong way, but unfortunately Credence vouching for the guy and with the Russian being his sleazy self; she soon agreed to talk. It also turned out that once she could speak freely without having to translate it into English, Lyudmila was quite the chatterbox.

They pieced together how she’d been born in a small village in Poland where her very religious parents had reacted very badly to her powers. (Credence got a pained expression on his face, his heart bleeding with empathy.) One day, a mystical stranger had appeared in the village and offered to bring Lyudmila to another country where her powers could be used for good. That, along with the money he had handed her parents, had lead to her arrival in the UK.  
She did not know the man’s name and he kept changing his appearance, but the girl had noticed how he had mismatched eyes…  
The mysterious man had been kind, if a little distant, encouraging her to use her powers and teaching her a little magic on their journey as well, and she had been sorry to see him go once he had handed her over to Mister Nadder, with instructions to do as she was told. After that, things weren’t so nice anymore and she learned to fear the name Theseus Scamander.

Graves waited outside the cell while Credence reassured the girl that he would be back, pointedly ignoring the Russian waiting in the hallway as well. He wasn’t overly surprised by what they’d learned, but he had a bad feeling about what would follow.

When Credence finally joined them out in the hall and the door to the cell closed, he turned to thank the Russian for his assistance before glancing over at Percival.  
“We have to tell Mr. Fawley!” Credence’s eyes were wide with optimistic excitement. 

A quick look over at the Russian, Graves could read from his face that he had the same thoughts as himself, clearly the man was used to bureaucracy as well.( He felt flicker of annoyance as he resented having anything in common with that man.) “Credence…” Percival began, trying to explain in the kindest possible way. “Ministries has a tendency to focus on ‘what’ has been done and not ‘why’... Be careful what you promise that girl. We might not be able to uphold it.”

Scoffing, Credence waved his words away. “Don’t be silly, Percival. Once we explain to Mr. Fawley, he will understand that this wasn’t her fault!” He smiled at the Russian. “Thank you so much for the help, Captain! Maybe you’d like to join us in Mr. Fawley’s office too?”

The Russian shook his head, clearing his throat. “No. No, I do not think that I am needed.” He took a step away, gave a little bow and pulled out his wand to disapparate away.

Percival sighed, wishing half-heartedly that he could do the same. He did not want to see the disappointment on Credence’s face…

-

Mr. Fawley leaned back in chair and nodded thoughtfully. “That is a most interesting story, Mr. Barebone. Very interesting indeed. Thank you.”

Percival was already leaning back in his own chair, watching and listening to Credence explaining what they had learned from the girl and knowing it would probably not change a thing.

“Surely this means she can be released?” Credence leaned forward, eager. “Lyudmila was tricked! This wasn’t her fault.”

“Whatever the reason,” Mr. Fawley began, his voice devoid of feeling, “the fact remains that she almost revealed our presence to the Muggles, as well as how she tried to kill one of our top Aurors and nearly succeeded.” 

Credence frowned. “But even Theseus says this wasn’t her fault.”

Mr. Fawley got up with a tight smile. “Mr. Scamander has always been of the forgiving type. And let us not forget that he is not well yet. You talk about protecting this foreign girl, but what about protecting Mr. Scamander? As well as the rest of London, from her?”

“But she wouldn’t hurt anyone! She was abandoned by her family and tricked. This wasn’t something she did out of malice. She thought she was doing the right thing!”

“I believe that is the phrase Grindelwald uses,” Mr. Fawley replied, a hardness to his eyes now. “For the greater good, yes? Whatever the reason behind her actions, the girl is dangerous. You may have found some way to control your Obscurus, Mr. Barebone, but every other Obscurial has failed and she will grow even more dangerous when she starts to lose control. You may speak of her wellbeing, but I have a responsibility to keep everyone else safe from ‘her’.” He got up from his seat. “And if it was indeed Grindelwald himself who recruited her, I am certain we can learn more about his plans if she is, as you claim, not on his side.”

Credence drew a sharp breath, about to object, and that was when Graves reached out and placed his hand on his arm to silence him. He felt the sharp stare, but kept his own gaze on Mr. Fawley. Plastering on a slight smile, Percival made sure to keep his voice light and even as well. “We just wanted to make sure you had the information, Mr. Fawley.” He got up from his chair, pulling Credence up as well. “We’ll leave the decision making up to you.”

Not convinced of his amiability, but wanting them gone, Mr. Fawley gave him a curt nod, which meant Percival could drag Credence out of his office.

Once the door closed behind them, Credence pulled free of his grip. “Why did you do that? Didn’t you hear him? He’s not going to let her go and he even wants to interrogate her about Grindelwald! She’s just a child, Percival!”

Sighing, Graves knew he couldn’t really make the younger man understand. “There was no point in arguing with him, Credence. Fawley wasn’t going to change his mind. We may work here, but we’re still foreigners and he won’t like it if we start telling him how to do things.”

“Well, I’m not giving up on her!” Credence snapped. “This is just wrong!” He turned on his heel and stalked towards the exit.

Watching him leave, Graves sighed again and then headed for his own office. This was turning out to be one shitty day! At least it couldn’t get much worse…  
That was what he thought, until he settled in his seat behind his desk and opened the letter on top of his pile of messages left for him.  
Reading the letter, Graves exhaled and leaned back in his chair. “ _Fuck…_ ”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The letter reveals a painful truth and Credence finally finds his family!

“Tell me you didn’t know,” Graves said, placing the letter on the table. “Convince me you didn’t know and that your purpose wasn’t to break his heart for your own gain or someone else’s.”

Regina Broadchurch frowned confused. “What are you on about?” She picked up the letter and read through it while Percival crossed his arms and walked over to stare out the window of her living room.  
He closed his eyes at the pained gasp that followed. It seemed like she hadn’t known, after all.

“How…?” Regina whispered.

Turning to face her, Graves tried to keep on a neutral expression. “Threats and pressure went where your money failed.” He glanced briefly at the letter in her trembling hands. “You said she struggled with a sick child. It made sense she’d seen a healer or a doctor somewhere and even they buckle under threats and pressure.”

Regina lifted a hand to cover her mouth while her eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Graves mumbled. 

He kept his silence while she re-read the letter and the tears began to trail down her face. He continued to keep his silence and waited while she read it for a third time. Percival had no doubt he was watching real grief, but still… As much as she was hurting, it was Graves’ responsibility to contain the amount of damage the situation could do to Credence.  
“You have to tell him,” Graves said eventually.

Folding the letter and glaring at him through tears, Regina made no attempt to hide her contempt for him. “Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted? You did want him all to yourself, didn’t you?”

“I’m not a good man, Mrs. Broadchurch, maybe not even a decent one,” Percival admitted, “but I would never want to take his family away from him. Even I am not that much of a bastard.”

Nodding, Regina shut her eyes tight. 

Graves moved back to her side. “I’ll help you explain, if you want me to?”

Nodding again, the elderly woman seemed smaller somehow, no longer the formidable figure which had stormed into the Ministry, demanding to see Credence Barebone. “I would appreciate that, Mr. Graves.”

He hesitated, but Percival spoke again. “I am sorry, you know. For the both of you.”

“The truth is what it is,” Regina whispered, looking at the folded letter, before she got up and handed him the letter back. “Nothing can change that.”

Graves slid the letter into the inner pocket of his jacket and then held out his hand. “Ready?”

“No,” Regina replied, while placing her hand in his. “But let us go visit Credence Barebone nonetheless.”

-

In the middle of writing a heated letter to the other officials at the Ministry, Credence was surprised when Percival and Regina apparated in his office. His surprise turned into fear when he saw she was crying. He immediately jumped to his feet, aiming to rush over, but Percival held out a hand to signal him to keep his distance. “Grandmother, what…?”

Regina flinched, as if she was in pain. “Credence, there is something I must tell you.” She wouldn’t look at him. “Mr. Graves found some papers. About Violetta’s son.”

Suddenly unsettled, both by her tears and the serious look on Percival’s face, Credence felt the Obscurus reluctantly waking from its slumber, stirring to life under his skin; ready to defend him. 

Turning away, Regina reached out and placed her hand on Graves’ shoulder.

That seemed to be the signal needed for Percival to take over. He pulled out a letter from inside his jacket, holding it up for a second before he put it down on the desk. “All we knew about Violetta’s son was his date of birth and that he’d been sickly a lot. I sent out feelers in the areas the fanatics had visited and found a medical journal about the boy.” He hesitated before continuing. “The child was born with a severe case of osteogenesis imperfect, otherwise known as having brittle bones. He had a curved spine and had problems with his lungs. Doctors were useless and healers could only postpone it; the boy eventually died.”

Credence stared wide-eyed at them, from one to the other, struggling to believe what he’d just heard. “Are… Are you sure?”

“I’m sorry,” Percival whispered.  
Regina’s shoulders shook silently as she sobbed quietly.

“I can’t…” Credence began, taking a step away. “I have to… Alone. I’ll be back later.” He didn’t wait for an answer, merely disapparated away to apparate outside the building. There he gasped for air, feeling a heavy grief crushing down and threatening to destroy him. 

Regina wasn’t his grandmother. She wasn’t his family. He was alone again… Truly alone.

Glancing around, noticing all the curious looks from people passing him, Credence considered where he could flee. He did not want to go home, did not want to face Percival yet, but where else could he go? Where would he, with no family, be welcome and safe?

Newt and Tina would ask too many questions, besides; they didn’t want him around Percival and Credence was not up to deal with that as well. No, there was really only one other place he could go.

Credence apparated in Theseus’ apartment and was surprised to find Theseus alone and drowsing on the sofa. When the Englishman saw him apparate and the state he was in, he sat up abruptly with a worried look. Credence knew instantly what was on his mind and shook his head. “Percival is fine.”

Frowning, Theseus got up on his feet. “But you’re not. What’s wrong?”

That’s when Credence couldn’t fight the tears anymore.

-

Scrambling over, Theseus wrapped an arm around him and guided him over to the sofa. “Hey… That bad?”

Credence sat down and sniffled while the other man found his place next to him on the sofa. “It’s just… I finally thought I knew.”

“Knew what?” 

“Who I was, where I came from…” Credence shook as painful tears burst free. “Percival found a medical journal. I’m not a Broadchurch. I have no family. You’d think I’d be used to that by now?”

“Oh, love, I’m sorry to hear she wasn’t your grandmother,” Theseus wrapped his arm around Credence’s trembling shoulders again and hugged him. “But you do have a family, you know.”

Credence shook his head, leaning against him. “I don’t, because I will never find them!”

“There are two kinds of family,” Theseus offered softly. “The kind you are born with, where you have no say in the matter, no matter how much of a tosspot they might be, but there is also the kind you choose.” He squeezed him gently. “Family is not all about blood. It’s much more important than that! It’s also about love. Even if you can’t find your genetic relatives, you can still decide on your own family with people who matter to you!”

Sniffling, Credence glanced up at him. “Why are you always so nice? Why don’t you hate me? I took Percival from you; I’d hate me!”

Theseus snorted a laugh. “One, I’m not always nice, Mister! I could hand you an entire book containing names of people who hate my guts.” He then sighed. “Second, you didn’t _take_ Percy from me. You can’t _take_ a person away from someone unless that person wants to go. Simple as that. And you’re good for him. I could never make him smile like that…”

Not doubting for one second that Theseus could make Percival smile like that and more, Credence wrapped his arms around Theseus in return and rested his head to his chest. Yes, Theseus could, but he wouldn’t, because that would hurt Credence. “Makarov really likes you, for your information.”

There was a thoughtful hum. “Maybe. Or maybe he’s just allured by mindblowing sex.” Theseus grinned naughtily at the wide-eyed glance Credence sent up at him, and then even the distraught Obscurial had to laugh a little. Giving Credence another squeeze, Theseus asked; “You going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” Credence replied, still mulling over what the man had told him about family. “It was just such a shock. I’d sort of given up about learning about my past and then, suddenly, there she was. Like a miracle. An answer to my prayers.” He shook his head a little. “A part of me almost wants to blame Percival. Why couldn’t he have just left it alone? What harm could it have done for me to believe?”

“You can’t blame him for wanting to protect you,” Theseus objected softly. “The woman came crawling out of the woodwork and claimed to be your grandmother. He had to make sure. You got plenty of people who would jump at the chance at controlling you and your handy turn-into-Death-Cloud-skill. And once he knew, Percy would not keep such a secret from you.”

Nodding, Credence burrowed further into his embrace. He stayed there for a long while before he spoke again. “Can I… Would you mind if… if I call you and Newt my family?”

Theseus smiled with no small amount of affection; “It would be our honor.” 

-

It was late when Credence finally returned to the apartment.

Percival stopped in his pacing to stare at him in the doorway.

“I’m back,” Credence knew he was stating the obvious but didn’t know what else to say.

Percival stared at him some more and only snapped out of it when Credence entered the apartment and closed the door behind himself. “Are you… okay?”

Credence felt a stab of guilt at how pale the man was and forced a smile. “I will be.” He walked over and slid his arms around Graves’ waist and was relieved to feel his arms go around him in turn. 

“Where did you go?” 

“Theseus,” Credence replied. “I’m sorry I just ran off.”

Sighing, Percival hugged him tighter. “And I’m sorry she wasn’t your grandmother…”

And Credence knew, deep in his soul, that Percival meant that. Theseus had been right; it had all been about protecting him and, despite everything, Credence preferred to know the truth. It would probably still hurt for a while, but at least he didn’t have to face things alone. “It’s okay.” He hesitated. “Is Regina… okay?”

“She will be. She’s a tough old bird.”

And Credence believed that too.  
Exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster he’d gone through that day, Credence inched up to find comfort in Percival’s lips. As always, kissing him made his brain ease into a blissful silence, especially as there was a possessive bite to Graves’ moves. After being unwanted since his birth, it was still a thrill to feel that.

Credence moved his hands up from Percival’s shoulders to his neck, brushing his fingertips over the short hair at his nape. “I love you,” he whispered against his lips, almost smiling at how the words fired up the hungry possessiveness in Graves even more and he wanted that. He wanted to feel wanted right now. Needed it.

Credence began to open the top button on Percival’s shirt. That brought forth a rumbling sound of approval from the older man and Credence felt a little more of the hurt ease away. He kissed him again, adding more of a challenge to it, urging him to unleash the greed Graves always tried to keep in check around him.

It took a little teasing, some goading, but Credence eventually got the response he aimed for; the kind of kiss which still made him feel overwhelmed and almost a little nervous. A kiss which demanded instead of asking, filled with the steely resolved that made Percival Graves the intimidating man he was.

-

After Credence disappeared from his office, Percival had been set on chasing after him, but Regina more or less ordered him not to. She told him to give Credence space, let him sort it out himself and wait for him to come home instead. 

Now, with Credence safely back with him, he knew it had been the right thing to do. Graves’ current instinct was to place his hands and mouth all over the damn boy and it seemed like Credence was more than amiable to the idea.

It wasn’t easy to remember his manners and not merely tear at the clothes, which Credence sometimes did, but Percival managed somehow. He peeled off the layers and savored every shudder and half-choked sound Credence made. 

Graves absolutely loved how responsive the young man was.

Pushing Credence back on the bed, Percival only paused to remove his own vest and shirt before following. He made his way up Credence’s stomach, letting his tongue touch every scar, and by the time he reached those tempting lips; Credence was already humming with Obscurial energy.

Sitting up to kneel between Credence’s splayed legs, Graves moved to open his own pants with a slight smirk. “What do you want, Credence?”

“You. Now.” There was no hesitation in the reply, but it was an enticing mix of demanding words and shyness as Credence lifted his arm to hide his flushed face in the crook of his elbow. 

“Very well,” Percival murmured, smiling slightly. 

While it was rewarding to see Credence more secure in himself, it was also a little nice to see he was still the one who had crept under Graves’ defenses back in America. The one who had made him want again, after so many years without any real cravings. It was still thrilling to feel that fire in his blood after Percival had been sleepwalking for so many years…

Running his hands over the slender body that was Credence, noting once again how he’d gone from a skinny, lanky frame to this sleek masterpiece, Graves also dug his fingers into the pale skin to prevent him from rolling over. He wanted to watch his face this time.

Percival struggled against his own desire, threatening to leave him mindlessly rushing towards his release, like a damn teenager, as he relished every response he got from Credence. Especially when he pushed into that tight heat and the younger man arched his back and moaned satisfied. Graves noted Credence’s beautiful mouth, his fingers digging into the sheets, the quiver in his belly and how his long legs slid up to wrap around Percival’s waist. 

Graves had not always been greedy, but life had taught him to be rapacious so he helped himself shamelessly of the pleasure between them without giving Credence a chance to reciprocate. 

It became a sweaty blur of taste, touch and gasping breaths. And when the release beckoned, Percival placed one hand against the mattress next to Credence’s ribs and kept the other on the younger man’s hip; leaning forward to chase it relentlessly. 

He was almost there when Credence let out a mindless moan and clenched down hard on him in his own climax and then Percival was just gone, gone, gone…

A knocking sound woke Graves from a sleep he had no recollection of entering, but he merely burrowed deeper into the pillows with an annoyed grunt while Credence got up, presumably to deal with the sound. 

Minutes later, when Credence did not return to the room, Percival frowned and got up as well. Putting on his pants, he had just fastened the button and pulled up the zipper when he stepped into the hallway and saw a nervous Credence in the doorway and standing next to him; Lyudmila.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence decides to save Lyudmila and Percival Graves is not happy!

“She broke out?” Graves repeated as, a thankfully dressed, Credence guided the unsteady girl into the living room. “She broke out from the Ministry and came here? Why did she break out?” He shook his head. “How the hell did she even know where to find you?”

“They said,” Lyudmila began, sinking down to sit on the sofa and accepted the blanket Credence wrapped around her, “execution.” She glanced up at Graves. “Death. Yes?”

Frowning, Percival crossed his arms. “And how did you know where to find us?”

She turned to look at the pale Credence and placed a light hand to his chest. “This. I feel. Power.”

“You can sense his Obscurus?” Graves was a little intrigued against his own will and had to clear his throat to remind himself what was important here. “Credence, she can’t stay here.”

“Why not?” Credence asked, wrapping a protective arm around the girl and sending him a wide-eyed look. “We can’t send her back there! You heard her; they were going to kill her.”

Sighing, Graves shook his head. “I’m not saying it is fair, Credence, but let’s face it; we’re not exactly in a position of power here. We work for the Ministry, remember? We have rules to obey now. Orders to follow.”

“And if they ordered you to execute me as well, would you do that too?” Credence snapped.

“Of course not,” Percival scoffed. “But that’s different.”

“It’s not,” Credence claimed. “They want to murder this girl simply because of what she is; an Obscurial.” 

Graves sighed, somewhere between impatient and resigned. “Credence, there is nothing we can do. They _will_ find her. Even if we could hide her for a little while, her powers will eventually grow too much and she’ll lose control. Look at her; she’s already wearing thin. She’s not you. She might not be dangerous now, but she will be.”

And, true, Lyudmila looked exhausted. She was pale and drawn, verging on collapsing at any second.  
“Which makes it even more important that we help her!” Credence’s gaze did not waver. 

“I no make trouble,” the young girl stuttered.

“Too late,” Graves muttered. How was he going to get them out of this one without getting the entire British Ministry chasing after them?

It was a good while later when the second knock came on the front door.

-

“She broke out of the building?” Theseus got up and paced a little in his living room. “Was anyone hurt?”

“No,” Makarov replied. “She punched through wall. Guards merely heard destruction. She was gone when they looked. Everyone looking now.”

Nodding, Theseus paused and considered his options before he glanced over at the Russian again. “Let’s go.”

“You are not well. Should be resting.” Makarov tried to object.

“Piffle that,” Theseus walked over to pick up his wand. “No time to waste!”  
He hoped he was mistaken. He hoped when they disapparated, he hoped when they apparated and he knocked on the door. He hoped until Percy opened the door and he saw Lyudmila in the back. “Oh, Percy…”

Grunting, Graves motioned for them to come inside, allowing himself a moment to send Makarov a stink-eye, he then shut the door after them and sauntered back to the living room where the girl was sitting with them trailing along. “Trust me; not my idea.”

Theseus glanced over at the tense Credence sitting next to the girl. “Credence, I know you want to help, but this is going to end badly. Let us take her back and no one gets hurt, yeah?”

“If you take her back, she’ll die!” Credence exclaimed. “Lyudmila escaped because they were going to kill her! 

Looking over at Percy; Theseus only got a blank look and shrug, no help there obviously, so he sighed and tried once more to reason with Credence. “Listen,” Theseus said, “everyone is out looking for her right now. They won’t stop. And neither will her powers. You may mean well and she may not mean to, but innocent people can get hurt.” He tried not to think of her shadowy figure grabbing hold of him, the sound of bones snapping and the sickening sensation of his head hitting stone…

“She IS innocent!” Credence insisted and then took a deep breath to calm himself. “Theseus, please, just hear me out?”

Theseus nodded. “I’m listening.”

“Lyudmila’s only crime is being an Obscurial. They want to execute her based merely on that simple fact, the very crime I’ve committed as well, without any trial or defense. Yet I get to live?” Credence shook his head. “I know how much she has suffered to become an Obscurial and now they want to kill her for surviving abuse? No. Not as long as I can do something about it. Not happening.” He met Theseus’ eyes calmly. “I’ve sent an owl to Newt. If he can separate her from the Obscurus, will you let her go?”

Surprised, Theseus blinked. “Even if he can, where would she go? She would not be safe anywhere.”

“I have a plan for that as well,” Credence replied. “The question is; will you let me save her?”

Another glance at Percy resulted in another sullen shrug, basically saying it was Credence’s thing and he was staying out of it, Theseus turned back to Credence and saw the desperate plea in the beautiful eyes. How could you say no to family? “Okay.”

-

Graves rolled his eyes and shook his head a little, but Makarov actually took a step forward, speaking with utter disbelief; “What?”

Theseus sent the relieved Credence a quick smile before he turned to deal with Makarov. “Listen, I know it might seem crazy, but she didn’t really do anything wrong.”

“She nearly killed you!” Makarov took another step closer. “She broke your arm, cut your body and fractured your skull! You nearly died!”

“I remember,” Theseus replied, “I was there.” He tried a smile. “But if I can let that go, surely you can too? She’s just a child, for Merlin’s sake.”

Scoffing and flinching back like a startled horse, Makarov was all disbelief and almost angry. “She is dangerous! And you want to let her loose? We have orders to bring her back!”

Now Theseus noted a wry smile on Percy’s face and silent tears on Lyudmila’s. He was suddenly struck with the urge to make the Russian understand. “She’s a little girl! She ran away because they were going to execute her. She didn’t hurt anyone while escaping and she hasn’t hurt us here.”

Shaking his head, Makarov glanced from one to the other. “Have you all lost mind?”

Graves shrugged yet again, for once seeming to agree with the Russian soldier, but Theseus reached out and took his face between his hands to make Makarov meet his eyes. “Life isn’t always black or white, right or wrong, yeah? We follow orders, but not if the orders claim the lives of innocent. We are good soldiers, but we are not mindless ones. There are times when we have to think for ourselves.”

“A dangerous path,” Makarov countered, his steel grey eyes holding his. “Who gets to decide which orders to follow? If all soldiers go rogue, cannot be trusted. Everything falls apart.”

“A soldier who does not ask questions, who cannot act without orders, is a pawn,” Theseus said. “And the men who gives the orders are precisely that; men. They can also make mistakes. Now, our orders are to find the Obscurial and bring her back, correct?”

This made Makarov frown. “Correct.”

“If my brother can separate the girl and the Obscurus, she would no longer be an Obscurial and our orders would be void, yes?” Theseus raised his eyebrows. “She would be harmless and of no interest to the Ministry.” He then held his breath as he watched the other man process this line of thought.

As much as he liked Makarov, which he really did, Theseus was painfully aware of the different ways they approached things. Makarov could be quite robotic at times. Was he capable of breaking his programming? Theseus doubted it, he’d seen this kind of brainwashed behavior before, but he had to give him the chance.

Makarov turned his gaze to stare long and hard at Lyudmila, who cowered under his glare and leaned closer to a defensive Credence, but finally he turned back to Theseus. “Separate her powers, then we see.”

Surprised, Theseus stared at him for a couple of seconds, struggling to believe what he just heard, then he couldn’t help but to smile. “Fair enough, Vasily.” And for some reason, the careful smile he got in return, it made Theseus’ heart skip a beat.

-

Waiting for Newt seemed to take forever. Eventually an exhausted Lyudmila was asleep on the sofa with a comforting blanket over her, Graves had muttered something about taking a shower and had disappeared, Makarov was silently stewing in a chair by the entrance door as if he thought the girl might make a run for it, so Credence used the opportunity to sneak up to Theseus who was staring out the living room window. “Hey…”

Theseus glanced over at him with a faint smile. “Hey, you. Something on your mind?”

“Yeah, I…” Credence glanced over at Makarov, then the door to the bathroom, before focusing on Theseus again, “I just wanted to say thank you. For giving her a chance.” He shifted his weight uneasily. “I wouldn’t blame you if you would be uneasy at the thought of her roaming free after what she did to you.”

Theseus shrugged. “I’ve been through worse.” Which could be true, but there was also no mistaking the brief and tense glance he sent Lyudmila’s way. He was clearly willing to give her a chance, but not stupid enough to forget what she was capable of. Clearing his throat, Theseus then leaned slightly closer to Credence. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Did I…” Theseus hesitated, embarrassed. “Did I really land one on Percy at St. Mungo’s?”

Trying to keep from smiling and failing horribly, Credence gave a little nod. 

“Oh dear…” Theseus looked like he couldn’t quite decide whether to be even more embarrassed or angry at how he obviously did not remember it, but he did give a sincere apology. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Credence said, and meant it. 

Theseus put his arm around Credence and gave him an amiable squeeze. They remained like that until, finally, a flustered looking Newt Scamander apparated in the apartment.  
Credence let the two Scamander brothers greet each other while he moved over to carefully wake Lyudmila.  
His entire plan relied on Newt being able to separate the Obscurus from the girl and time was not on their side. The Aurors were looking for her and if they found her with her powers intact; she was dead. Even with the support of Percival and Theseus, Credence would not be able to protect her from the entire Ministry.

Lyudmila made a confused sound and Credence petted her shoulder carefully. “It’s okay. The man I told you about? The one who can help you? He’s here.”

As she sat up, Graves re-entered the room, now freshly showered, clothed and groomed to perfection. He paused to glare first at Makarov, then stink-eye Newt’s back and finally settled on becoming an ominous presence in the background.

While Newt, dear sweet Newt, approached Credence and Lyudmila with a gentle smile and a non-threatening posture, much like he had done with Credence in the underground. “Hello.”

“This is Lyudmila,” Credence said, his heart filling with optimistic hope. If Newt could separate Credence from his Obscurus, surely he wouldn’t break a sweat doing the same for Lyudmila! “She needs our help.”

-

To say that Percival was not happy would be the understatement of the year. He was itching to simply throw the girl out of the apartment and pretend they’d never seen her. Her very presence was a threat to Credence. If she lost control, if she attacked or killed anyone, it would give new life to the rumors that Credence was a ticking time bomb with those Obscurial powers of his. They had worked too damn hard to risk everything for a stranger!

Still, Percival knew it would end in a messy fight if he tried to push his point. He decided to hang back and let them have a go at their plan and he’d only do what needed to be done if it came to that. 

The bumbling Newt Scamander made his approach and soon they began preparations for the separation between the girl and her Obscurus. (Such a waste…)

To Graves’ surprise; it worked. It was a long and complicated thing, but it worked! The girl was severely weakened, but alive, and the Obscurus was captured in a glass-like bubble.  
(At least Theseus’ Russian seemed as surprised as Percival!)

He allowed Credence and the Scamander brothers a few moments of celebration before he pointed out the fact that they were not done yet. “Okay,” Percival said, “now what?”

“Now,” Credence said, helping Lyudmila sit up while Newt Scamander slid the captured Obscurus into his suitcase, “we go and visit Regina Broadchurch!”

Of all the possible answers, that was probably what he expected the least! 

Apparating in the house where Credence had lived when he had no memory of them and they still thought Regina Broadchurch was his grandmother, Graves wasn’t surprised to see stacked boxes in the hallway. Clearly she had already begun preparations to return to the US. He glanced over at Credence, still holding up the barely conscious girl (Theseus, his brother and the Russian had agreed wait for their return) and saw a flicker of sadness there. “You sure about this?”

“I want to ask her, at least,” Credence said.

“Ask me what?” Regina asked, standing at the top of the stairs.

Drawing a shivering breath, gathering his courage, Credence began to explain. As he did, and not sparing the soppy details of Lyudmila’s sad life and complicated situation, Percival saw Regina studying the young girl. Her eyes were as sharp as ever, if a little more tired and resigned. “She can’t stay in London, even after we have separated her from the Obscurus,” Credence explained. “It wouldn’t be safe. They would just come after her. But if she was to go to America…”

Regina made a thoughtful sound and made her way down the stairs. She kept her eyes on the girl. Approaching her, she asked a couple of questions, including if she did indeed wish to leave at all, and got her positive answers. After that, the elderly woman turned her thoughtful gaze on Credence again. “You’re not my grandson, so you are giving me this child in your stead? Is that it?”

Credence shook his head. “I’m asking you because I know you are a good person. Lyudmila needs help. She doesn’t have anyone.” 

Giving a faint smile, Regina reached out and gently touched his face. “You’re a good boy, Credence. I’m really sorry things turned out the way it did.”

“So am I,” Credence said. “But it also helped me realize that I need to stop looking back. I need to focus on the future. I’m not alone, Regina. I have Percy. I have Theseus and Newt. I’m going to be fine and I think you will be too.”

The smile widened and tears glimmered briefly in Regina’s eyes, but she quickly blinked them away and cleared her throat. “I think so too, Credence Barebone.” She smiled at him a little longer before turning her focus on Lyudmila. “So, young Miss, do you want to go to America?”

Percival gave a little shake of his head, unable to believe what had just happened, but he was warmed by the happy look on Credence’s face. Maybe things didn’t always have to end badly? Maybe there were some instances where things turned out for the best for everyone?

-

Returning to the apartment, Credence was giddy with joy and relief. He’d had full confidence in both Newt’s skills and Regina’s kindness, but it was amazing to have it confirmed. (Even Percival was reluctantly impressed with how things had turned out.)

Theseus got up from the sofa when they apparated in the living room. “Did she…?” Makarov got up as well.

“Tomorrow, Lyudmila will be on her way to America and a new life there!” Credence announced happily. He glanced around. “Where is Newt?” The younger Scamander brother was nowhere to be seen. 

“He had to dash off again. Creature emergency, “Theseus explained. “But I’m glad to hear your plan worked, Credence.”

“Ministry is still looking,” Makarov pointed out in a dry voice.

Theseus winked at him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle them.”

“We got to celebrate!” Credence declared. “Dinner! The four of us, yes?” He had the distinct feeling that Percival wasn’t keen on celebrating Lyudmila’s escape from prison and death, but to him it was like saving his younger self.

Makarov still looked a little uncomfortable with what they’d done, but he eventually agreed after a little manipulation from Theseus, and Percival merely resigned himself to it with a mild; “If that’s what you want.”

Credence’s good mood was contagious though and he smugly noted that by the time they were all gathered around the table, eating, the atmosphere was relaxed and more than a little cheerful. Even Percival deigned to exchange a few words with Makarov that wasn’t purely condescending or mocking! (Theseus sent Credence a wide-eyed look of sarcastic amazement that had him giggling.)

A faint tap-tap sound caught Credence’s attention. He glanced over towards the window and saw a black owl. Mail. Credence got up and walked over to let the bird inside.

Automatically handing the letter over to Percival, Credence was more focused on the bird. He made it clamber over to perch on his arm in order to find something for it to eat as well. He was heading towards the kitchen when he realized two things; the conversation around the table had fallen completely silent and there was something sticky on the bird’s feathers.

Holding his fingers up, Credence saw them covered in blood.

Fear shot through him like a bullet and he quickly looked over at Percival. 

Graves was looking at him as well, the letter opened and read in his hands. When he spoke his voice was quiet and filled with unease. “It just says Regina’s address…”

Credence did not hesitate. He merely shook the owl off and disapparated to apparate in the house they’d been in merely hours before. Where there had been organized chaos of Regina preparing her departure, there was now only chaos. He could see scars on the walls from spells and panic was starting to crawl up his spine. Making his way up the stairs, he didn’t notice the others apparating as well. His mind was spinning with fear and dread and disbelief. What had happened?

Upstairs was also heavily scarred from a magical battle, giving the impression of a final stand, and Credence failed to hold back a sob at the sight that met him where he’d spent hours listening to Regina play the piano.

Percival gently pushed him aside and walked into the room to kneel down next to the fallen Regina Broadchurch. He reached out and felt for her pulse, but Credence knew she was gone. He could feel it. Tears were flooding his eyes as grief came crashing down on him and he barely heard the words as Theseus read what had been written on a note left on the piano;

“Alert the Ministry and the girl dies as well. Want her back? Come get her where we first met. Viberus Nadder.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And to make matters worse, after that ending, I will be away for at least a week, so I'm afraid the next update is 'at least' a week away, but hang in there! More to come!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nadder's blood-stained invitation causes even more pain...

Percival slowly withdrew his hand with a shake of his head. He felt a flicker of sadness for the loss of Regina, but his attention was soon turned elsewhere as he noted Theseus carefully backing up a couple of steps. Then Makarov did the same; both men with a nervous look on their faces.

Straightening, Graves turned towards Credence and found him shivering with barely restrained rage. Black wisps of dark magic were already flickering around him, his face was a mask of fury and his hands were curled up into tight fists.

Makarov had pulled out his wand, his knuckles white from the frantic grip, but Theseus carefully reached out, placed his own hand over his and slowly made him lower it.

Good. Despite how scared Theseus appeared to be, clearly he still had the ability to use reason and realized it would be a very bad move to provoke Credence right now.

“Calm,”Graves said in a soothing voice, stepping closer to Credence. “You need to stay calm, Credence.”

Credence’s eyes went white and he turned his horrible focus on Percival, snarling through clenched teeth; “ _I want his head!_ ”

Nodding, Graves reached out and gently cupped his flickering face between his hands. “And I will hand it to you, my dear boy, I promise. But if you lose it now, you’re just going to achieve two things. One, it will cost us whatever advantage we have. Two, it will draw the Ministry towards us.” He held his gaze firmly. “Do you understand?”

It took some effort, but eventually Credence managed a nod and he shuddered hard as he forced the Obscurus into submission. 

Once seeing the young man’s eyes turning back to normal, Graves nodded as well and released him. He turned to the other two men to make sure they were all on the same page here. “We’re going after Nadder for this and he’s not going to be brought in alive. Either you’re okay with that or you walk away. Understood?”

Makarov, clearly reassured now that Credence was back to his calm self, made a slight shrug. It seemed like killing bothered him a lot less than Obscurials. 

Percival focused on Theseus. “You okay with this?”

“Accidents can happen during arrests,” Theseus replied. “He’d be sentenced to death anyway. Just saving the Ministry time. So, what’s your plan?”

“He wants us back to the warehouse. When you came to rescue me, I’m guessing you memorized the layout of the place. I need you to talk me through it.”

Theseus nodded. “No problem.” 

-

Thirty nine minutes later, Credence, Graves and Theseus walked into the building where they’d first met Nadder.  
Wands in their hands, tension tight in their shoulders, they were all ready for battle. Entering the building and finding it empty did nothing to ease the tension.

Credence glanced over at the others, feeling how the Obscurus was sliding restlessly under his skin. “Where is he?”

“Close,” Theseus replied absently, scanning their surroundings.

“The trap will spring soon. Be ready.” Graves advised.

No sooner had the words left his lips, then three wizards apparated behind them and Credence felt an arm go around his throat and he was disapparated away before he could do anything. Once he apparated though, he did not hesitate to break free from the grip and spin around to face his attacker. Not fast enough to avoid the spell that sent the wand flying out of Credence’s hand, but that didn’t worry him too much.

The wizard was a young man he’d never seen before and the confident smile on his face told Credence that Nadder had not informed him of what he would be up against.

Credence was just about to unleash the Obscurus when the wizard was hit by a spell, went rigid and fell over with a look of utter surprise.

Spinning around once more, Credence was shocked at the sight that met him. “You.” 

Mismatched eyes glimmered with amusement. “Hello again, Credence Barebone.”

Shock gave way for anger and Credence clenched his hands. “This was all you? You killed Regina?”

Shaking his head, Grindelwald sauntered over to look down at the fallen wizard. “Not at all. This is all Nadder’s scheme. He and I are done. Conflict of interests. I’m just here to retrieve something of mine. That, and, well, once I discovered you were here, I couldn’t waste an opportunity to talk to you, could I?”

“What do you want from me?”

“For you to join me, of course!” Grindelwald laughed.

“Join you?” Credence scoffed. “You tried to kill me!”

The words seemed to genuinely puzzle the man. “Kill you? Never. You are far too valuable to me.”

“You wanted to send me on a suicide mission at a summit! You intended to send me into the Ministry to attack them, while you were pretending to be Graves and knowing they’d kill me, or did you conveniently forget about that?”

Grindelwald leaned a little closer, his eerie eyes only outdone by the dangerous smile on his lips. “Oh, my precious Credence, you have no idea, do you? Percival Graves keeps restraining you, keeps holding you back from reaching your true potential! Those people could never have killed you!” He drew a shuddering breath. “You are far more powerful than you can imagine, Credence. Fawley and the others tremble in your presence, and they should.”

-

Unsettled, Credence backed up a step. 

“I could teach you so much,” Grindelwald purred. “Come with me, Credence. Let’s be friends.”

Credence’s eyes narrowed. “You tried to kill Graves.”

Grindelwald made a face. “Ah.” He shrugged. “True. But he did betray me and I do tend to take that a bit personal. But if you join me, that’ll be bygones. No hard feelings. Water under the bridge. I promise I won’t harm a hair on that well-groomed head of his! I always wanted him. And you. The both of you on my side, now that’s an idea!”

Despite his better knowledge, Credence found himself curious. Here was the world’s most wanted wizard criminal and he was wooing him. He wanted Credence Barebone on his side. “Why is it so important to you that I join you?”

Something dark stirred in Grindelwald. “Because you of all people know how unfair these laws are and how they make the innocent suffer. Powerful wizards such like yourself should be celebrated, Credence! Not beaten into a shadow by mere Muggles! They are less than us, yet we scuttle around in the shadows. It is our children who turn into Obscurials because Muggles are given the right to rule the world. We shouldn’t have to hide or be afraid!”

While he didn’t like it, Credence felt himself grow fascinated. The words did make sense to him, he violently hated the fact that other children were still going through what he’d been through and most would not survive their transformation. Magic was a wonderful thing to be shared, not feared. “Maybe… one day, we won’t have to hide? Maybe we can live side by side, once they know not to fear us?”

“Nothing would please me more,” Grindewald said. “But the laws won’t allow that to happen. As long as we are forced to go into hiding, under the threat of death, nothing will change unless we _make_ it change.”

Credence frowned. “They say you want a war…”

“War is coming, Credence,” Grindelwald moved to stand right in front of him. “Make no mistake about that. You can feel it, can’t you? It’s in the air. It’s in your blood. You know this.” His mismatched eyes scanned Credence. “War is inevitable.”

And in that one terrible moment, Credence knew he was right; war _was_ coming.

“I want you on my side, Credence,” Grindelwald murmured. “Help me lead the wizarding world out of the shadows and into the light, where we belong.”

Credence hesitated. For a second he desperately wanted Percival there to tell him what to do, to make sense out of the fact that Grindelwald was sounding dangerously reasonable, but this time Credence was very much on his own.  
Was he supposed to follow his heart or his mind?

-

Percival felt the arm go around his throat and being disapparated away, but he acted before he could feel anything else really. 

The second they apparated, he was already twisting in the grip and sending off a spell into the stranger’s body. He felt the spell hit and the body fly away, and was ready to send off a second spell when he’d fully turned to face his attacker.

The guilty party was a young man he’d never seen before. He seemed slightly stunned by the first attack, coughing for air and had his wand carelessly lowered, clearly not a trained fighter.

Graves hesitated, but maintained his offensive posture.

The stranger hacked and coughed for a few moments longer, then appeared to remember his situation, cast a startled glance Graves’ way and disapparated away.

Frowning, Percival waited for him to apparate again, maybe to attack from a different angle, but time passed and there was nothing.  
That was strange…

He glanced around and found he was standing right inside the door to what appeared to be a small storage room or something. There were some odd crates here and there, and two other doors leading out of the room. 

Deciding not to waste any time, Credence or Theseus might need his help, Graves headed for the left door.

He was in the middle of the room when the door actually creaked open.

Instantly going into a defensive posture, wand ready, Percival prepared himself for battle. If someone tried to get between him and the others, they were going to regret that real soon!

Confidence and determination shattered and vanished in an instant as he saw who stepped into the room. 

-It can’t be! He’s dead! Graves’ mind screamed, but his eyes kept seeing what they saw.

Ben stepped closer, every bit as young and handsome as he remembered him. He even gave Graves that perfect smile like he used to do. “Hey there, buddy!” That _hated_ and too familiar phrase…

Raw fear shot through Percival Graves and he froze completely, unable to do anything but stare in terrified disbelief and shiver. The years had done nothing to ease how scared he felt at the very sight!

How could this be? Ben had died in the war! He saw his body! They had buried him along with the other soldiers in those muddy trenches. It wasn’t possible!

And yet, here he was, even death couldn’t keep him. There was no mistaking Benjamin Roberts.

Ben tilted his head and reached out, softly calling out the disarming spell to make Graves’ wand fly out of his numb hand and into his own, like he’d also done in the past. Every horrid memory that Percival had tried to suppress came screaming back to life. There was no escape, there never had been.

Defenseless, Percival Graves sank to his knees and fought to breathe while terror made his heart beat so hard it felt like it was about to tear its way out of his very chest.

-

Theseus felt the arm go around his neck and he was disapparated away. When they apparated, a harsh elbow back into the body behind him gave him his freedom and he quickly spun around with his wand ready to finish the job.

His target was an unfamiliar woman and Theseus easily deflected the spell she angrily tossed his way and sent off a couple of his own in return. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel slightly satisfied at the startled yelp she gave when they hit her and she went down.

Reflexes saved him from the back-attack and Theseus managed to twist away before the spell hit him and he automatically sent one in return.  
Nadder deflected with a wide grin, but didn’t attack again.

Keeping a wary eye on both the fallen woman and the grinning Nadder, Theseus took a moment to assess the situation. It appeared that the woman had apparated them in the upper level of the building with rows of big windows on both sides, leading to the outside of the building and to the ground level rooms inside. He wondered briefly where Percy and Credence had gone to…

“Theseus Scamander,” Nadder exclaimed. “The once famous war-hero, trusted with the dangerous mission of tracking down Gellert Grindelwald! How is that going for you?”

“Better than your tentative grip on your sanity,” Theseus replied. 

Nadder’s eyes narrowed for a fraction, but then his grin returned and he tilted his head slightly. “I want to show you something, Mr. Scamander.”

“No offence,” Theseus said, “but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to see anything you got.” He kept his wand ready to fire off spells.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you want to see this,” Nadder needled. “Aren’t you curious about your companions?” He raised an eyebrow. “About Percival Graves?”

Theseus twitched but forced himself calm. “You’re lying.”

“Not at all,” Nadder insisted, taking one step backwards and gesturing towards the internal window pointed towards a ground level room. “He’s right here.”

Tempted, but too aware of the danger of it being a trap, Theseus hesitated. 

Nadder waited a few seconds, then chortled and backed away with exaggerated steps, keeping his hands in the air. 

Still wary and knowing it was most likely a trap, Theseus just couldn’t help himself. He inched closer, still keeping an eye on Nadder and the fallen woman, until he was able to throw a quick glance throw the window.

-

For a second, Theseus felt relief wash over him as he saw Percy walk across what appeared to be a storage room or something. He was okay! But then the door into the room opened and everything changed…

Theseus could almost see the color drain from Percy’s face, could most definitely see how his body froze and the fear in his eyes as he stared at the man who had stepped in front of him. He appeared to be completely paralyzed.  
Percy then made no effort to defend himself when his wand was taken from him. Terrified and vulnerable, he merely sank to his knees and was lost in his own mind.

Theseus recognized Benjamin Roberts from the grainy pictures he’d dug up after Percy told him about him but he could also make out how the door the man had entered through merely lead to a cluttered closet. It was a trap. It was a boggart!

Forgetting about his own situation, Theseus slammed his hand against the window. “It’s not real!” He called out, slamming at the window again. “Percy, it’s not him! It’s a damn boggart!”

Once again, his instincts saved him and Theseus managed to dodge Nadder’s spell enough for it to merely graze his shoulder and leave a burning sensation in its wake.

“Pathetic!” Nadder snarled. “You are supposed to be one of the Ministry’s best and most powerful wizards, and yet you keep sniveling around Percival Graves!” He spat out a harsh laugh and sent off a second spell. “Oh, yes, everyone knows about your poorly kept secret, but Mr. Graves prefers them younger, much younger! He doesn’t even look at you, does he?”

Theseus knew the man was just trying to provoke and distract him, but while he managed to defend against the spell; the words hit hard. “Shut your gob!”

“Of course an uptight guy like Graves would have ghosts in his past. Something that made him so uptight. It wasn't hard to figure that one out. But you... Don’t you have any dignity?” Nadder continued, both with his harsh words and his spells. “You truly are pathetic!”

Gritting his teeth in anger, Theseus put all his emotions into his spells and fired back, making Nadder back up, but that left him open for attacks from other angles. The woman had clearly come to her senses again at some point because a powerful spell slammed into Theseus’ back and it sent waves of pain through his body.

He crashed to his knees, gasping for air, and he saw Nadder approaching him but was unable to make his limbs move.

Looking down at Theseus, Nadder shook his head. “You came back from the war as a hero. You rose as a shining star in the Ministry. You were a name to be reckoned with! And now you’re throwing it all away for him? Percival Graves, who only has eyes for his boy.” He placed the tip of his wand under Theseus’ chin and made him lift his face to look up at him. “He doesn’t care about you. Nobody cares about you. You’re alone and now you’ll die alone.”

There was enough truth in those statements that it was hard to say which hurt the most; the words or the spell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this qualify as a cliffanger? Hangers? Erm, well, I can reveal that next chapter will be up soon so there won't be much waiting anyways! :P


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nadder continues to torment the trio and reveals his secret weapon

Coughing for air, Theseus was curled up on his side, waiting for the convulsions to ease down. Once they did, he managed to squirm over on his stomach to push himself up on his knees, only to have yet another spell send him crashing to the floor.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, he heard a half-choked scream escape against his will.

Nadder laughed somewhere in the room and so did the woman.

Theseus tightened his grip on his wand, still clutched against his chest, and flung out a spell in the direction of the voices. He had no idea whether he hit something or not, but it did buy him enough time to crawl a small distance and shake the fog away from his vision. Glancing back, he saw the two watching him and anger flared up. They were playing with him.  
They were underestimating him.

Making his way up on shaky legs, Theseus glared at the duo. “You’re wrong.” He huffed a tired laugh. “I mean, you are right about a lot of things, but you are wrong about one very important part.”

“And what is that?” Nadder asked, leaping to the side as Theseus sent a spell towards them.

The woman glared and moved in the opposite direction.  
She didn’t get far. Theseus’ second spell hit her hard and sent her sprawling once more and he braced against the punishing hit he knew he would get from Nadder. He suffered through the pain, stumbling backwards, managed to stay on his feet due to pure willpower, and deflected Nadder’s next attack due to pure luck.

Dizzy and weakened, Theseus could not prevent Nadder’s physical attack though.

One hand went around Theseus’ throat, the other prodded his wand harshly to Theseus’ jawline, and Nadder slammed him against the wall next to one of the external windows. “Do tell me, handsome; what am I wrong about?”

Theseus dropped his own wand to the floor and reached up to take a hold of the lapels on Nadder’s jacket and gave a cruel smile. “I’m not alone.”

Taking one step to the left, Theseus yanked Nadder along and the moment they stood in front of the window; it exploded into a glittering shower of sharp shards. 

A bullet brushed by Theseus and tore into Nadder, pushing him out of Theseus’ grasp and sending him sprawling to the floor. Gasping with pain, Nadder lifted a hand to touch the bleeding hole in his shoulder with a look of utter disbelief.

In the neighboring building, Makarov clicked out the spent shell from his sniper rifle and reloaded with a slight smile at the faint wave of gratitude Theseus sent his way.

-

All it took was that one moment of distraction for Nadder to disapparate away, but Theseus wasn’t too worried. The man was badly injured and there was something more important to deal with right now.

He quickly fetched his wand and Theseus disapparated mid-run to apparate in the lower level floor. 

When Theseus appeared, Percy was keeping one hand blindly in front of himself, a futile attempt to keep away the horrible vision of Benjamin Roberts, but once the boggart stepped closer; the usually so emotionless Graves scrambled backwards with a terrified cry.

“Percy!” Theseus rushed towards him.

The presence of another soul made the boggart pause and the second it began to shape-shift; Theseus took care of it with a well-placed spell. “Riddikkulus!” He barely noticed it turning into something else and scuttling away, he merely dropped to his knees next to its victim.

“Percy, it’s not him!” Theseus pocketed his wand and reached out to touch Percy’s shoulder. He hated how the other man flinched under his touch, curled up against the wall and hiding his face. “It’s me, Theseus. Listen, it wasn’t him. What you saw was a boggart. It’s not Ben, okay?”

The name made Percy flinch again. He was trembling hard and breathing strained.

“Look at me!” Theseus pleaded, trying to pry Percival’s hands down to make him turn his way. “It wasn’t Ben!”

The words finally seemed to break through a little and Percy slowly uncurled enough to look at him. In that moment Theseus realized he was facing the 19 year old and broken Percival Graves, not the man he’d met all those years later. These were not the hardened and defensive eyes of Graves, but the eyes of the terrified and vulnerable boy he’d buried inside to survive what had been done to him.

Exhaling softly, feeling his own heart breaking, Theseus carefully reached out to gently cup Percy’s face with one hand. “Oh, Percy…” How he wished Benjamin Roberts was indeed alive, so he could kill him all over again for what he’d done. “It’s going to be okay, yeah? It’s over. He can never hurt you again.”

Percy frowned a little, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend it was true, and Theseus suspected it would never be truly over for him. Still, only seconds passed before Percy moved forward to latch on to him with a desperate grip; hiding his face to Theseus’ chest and shivering hard again. “Theseus!”

Wrapping his own arms around him, Theseus swallowed hard. “It’s okay… He’s gone…”

Heartbeats passed as the trembling slowly subsided, and suddenly Percy pushed himself away. He wouldn’t really look at Theseus, getting up on unsteady feet. “Credence… We have to find Credence. If Nadder hurts him…” Finally he glanced back at Theseus and gave a startled blink at what he saw. 

“You’re… bleeding,” Percy stated, softly, almost guiltily, now seeing the injuries left from Nadder.

Theseus got up as well, shaking his head with a faint smile. “It’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.” He moved towards the door opposite where the boggart had emerged from. “Let’s go find Credence.”

-

“You’re right,” Credence said, staring absently at the floor while he felt Grindelwald hovering by his right shoulder. “The laws are unfair, no child should ever have to turn into an Obscurial, and a war is coming.”

He didn’t have to look at Grindelwald to know he was smiling.

“When that day comes, when the war is upon us, I will fight. I’m not sure for whom, myself and others like me probably, but…” Credence turned to face Grindelwald, “the one thing I do know is that I will never fight for you.”

The smile left Grindelwald’s face.

“You use pretty words, but you are a dark and cruel person, Mr. Grindelwald. I can see the real you.” Credence shook his head a little. “You claim to fight for wizardkind, maybe a part of you even believes it, but in reality; it is all for you. And the rest of us are all pawns in your game. Our pain and suffering means nothing to you.” 

“And you believe you matter to the Ministry?” Grindelwald asked, a sharp edge to his voice now.

“Not for one second,” Credence scoffed with a wry laugh. “But I matter to others, to Percival.” The smirk was replaced with contempt. “You, the Ministry, you are the same to me. You both look at me as a weapon to be used at your word.”

Grindelwald’s mismatched eyes glimmered with amusement again. “Graves always said you were a clever boy. It was my mistake to underestimate you.”

“Yes. It was.”

Giving a soft laugh, Grindelwald took a step away, giving Credence his space, and tilted his head almost curiously. “They might not give you much of a choice, my boy, about fighting for their side or not.”

Credence wasn’t worried. “Let them try.”

“Oh, you are indeed a treasure, sweet Credence, a god and a monster,” Grindelwald purred. “I was telling the truth when I told you I could teach you so much, if you would only lend your strength to me. I give you my word that Percival will be safe. Hell, I’ll even throw in the Scamander brothers you seem to be so attached to.”  
Credence was about to reply, but Grindelwald merely raised a hand to silence him. “Think about it. My offer stands.” And then he was gone.

Credence took a deep breath, picked up his wand, gathered himself and headed for the door leading out of the room. He had to find the others. He had to save Lyudmila.

-

Credence had opened the door and taken one step into the other room when he was hit by something hard and painful. 

And again.

It took him several agonizing moments before Credence managed to make out the wizards flinging spells at him inside the dark room he’d entered. How many? He couldn’t tell. His body was shaking uncontrollably under the barrage, making it impossible for him to use the wand, and his head was hurting so bad he could barely think.

The Obscurus raged inside him and pushed to be released, and Credence could feel his instinctive restraint slipping…

Suddenly, he heard a scream. Then another. Then Credence realized the attacks had come to a halt, even if he could still hear fighting going on, and he stumbled backwards to lean against a wall to regain his senses. 

Panting hard, still with an occasional shudder of pain, he blinked the fog out of his vision and saw flashes of fierce spells flying everywhere from Percival Graves, as he stood protectively in front of him and let loose his powerful anger upon those who had attacked Credence.

Credence greedily took in the sight of his familiar form, those broad shoulders and elegant hands, letting his presence soothe his frantic Obscurus. He also became aware of a second presence darting around the room, the source of several spells attacking the unknown wizards, and exhaled a relieved smile at the glimpse of Theseus. He didn’t have to find them, they had found him.

By the time the final wizard fled or fell, Credence had recovered enough to raise his wand and join in on the fight. Silence followed in the wake of the brawl. Nobody moved, just listened and waited for more trouble, but eventually Percival turned to face Credence with an intense look.

“Are you hurt?” He asked.

Credence shook his head, unable to keep a faint smile from his face. “Thank you.” He then frowned concerned at how pale and disheveled Percival appeared. What had happened to him? 

“I think we’re okay for now,” Theseus said, walking over to them.

Credence’s frown deepened at the sight of the bruises and blood on Theseus. “Are you?”

Theseus put on a bright smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes, and reached out to ruffle his hair. “Of course!”

Graves didn’t answer, merely glanced briefly towards the door where they’d come from.

“We need to keep moving,” Theseus continued. “Makarov managed to wing-clip Nadder, but we still have to find the girl and finish the job.”

-

“Grindelwald was here,” Credence said, making both Theseus and Percival send him startled looks.

“What did he say?” Percival demanded to know, stepping close enough to hover almost ominously over Credence. “You were alone with him?”

Uncomfortable, Credence swallowed hard. “He knocked out the wizard who disapparated me and told me he wanted me to join his side.” He sent Percival a probing look. “He said he never tried to kill me, that I would have been powerful enough to survive both the summit and the Ministry.”

“Of course he said that,” Percival shot back, angry. “He’s trying to manipulate you, Credence. He will say anything to make you his.”

“Then he could have saved his breath,” Credence replied in a soothing voice, “because I already belong to someone else.” He leaned in to steal a brief kiss, as much to settle his own nerves after what had happened as to calm down Percival. Luckily it did the trick for them both.  
Something then caught his eye and Credence slipped by Percival to walk over to Theseus, who was discretely trying to heal a badly burned arm. “Theseus!”

“It’s nothing. Really.” Theseus insisted, pulling his healing hand away and hiding his arm behind his back. “But we do need to keep moving. You two done? We got to…” His words died out as Credence took a gentle hold of his arm and made him show it to him. It wasn’t a pretty sight, skin and flesh marred by a fire spell, but nothing beyond repair with a little effort.

Percival came over and frowned at the sight as well.

“I told you, it’s nothing,” Theseus repeated. “I can take care of it myself.”

“I’m sure you can,” Credence said absently, focusing his magic into his wand and let it slide across the injured arm to heal the damage there, “but the thing is…”

“…you don’t have to,” Percival finished the sentence for him, while lifting a hand to slide a finger over a cut in Theseus’ lip and healing it. 

Glancing up at Theseus, seeing him stare mesmerized at Percival, Credence was struck how similar the two men were. Not by looks or superficial behavior, but how they both were loners and didn’t know how to let others in to their lives.

It was easy to see that in Percival Graves, as closed off and dismissive as he was, but Theseus was in fact the same; he only hid it behind a cheerful mask.  
(Credence made a mental note to make sure to keep an eye on the guy or risk having him keel over from injuries he didn’t want to ‘bother’ them with.)

Lifting the wand, strangely proud to see the flawless skin he’d brought back, Credence found Theseus looking at him now and he gave him his softest smile. “Family look after each other, yes?”

“Definitely,” Theseus replied, reaching out to slide his hand behind Credence’s neck and give it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.” He leaned down and briefly rested his forehead against his.

And for some reason, Percival Graves’ face softened at the sight and the corner of his mouth tugged at a barely visible smile…

“Now, let us go get Lyudmila,” Credence declared, “and finish our business with Nadder.”

-

They made their way through another couple of rooms which appeared to be one office and the other a storage room. Graves felt himself tense up in the storage room, clutching his wand hard, and hating himself for dreading that the door would open and unleash another boggart.  
Even knowing it was just a boggart, it still unsettled him. He never wanted to see that face again…

They eventually made it to the final room, at the very back of the building, a big open area with lots of windows. The door opened to reveal their prey; Nadder was standing at the far end, surrounding by at least twenty wizards, and in front of him; Lyudmila.

Credence twitched, an automatic urge to run forward, but Graves placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

Nadder was a drama-queen and he was not going to let the final battle go down without some theatrics. It was better to let him make his move first and then adjust their plan. He glanced over at Theseus, who gave a slight nod in return. They were ready.

“Welcome!” Nadder proclaimed, like they were guests at his mansion rather than people wanting to kill him in a desolate warehouse. “I’m glad you could make it. All three of you. I wasn’t sure.” He had healed the wound in his shoulder, but his jacket was still torn and the blood remained. “Truth be told, I’m glad you did.”

Credence clenched and unclenched his hands, humming with barely restrained magic. “Give us Lyudmila back! She doesn’t have her Obscurus anymore. She’s of no value to you.” 

The girl was a trembling, sobbing mess. Graves suspected she’d seen Regina’s fate and made a silent vow to make Nadder suffer as much as possible. 

“Certainly!” Nadder exclaimed. “I told you that you could have her back if you came here, didn’t I? I always keep my word! Always!”

Theseus glanced over at Graves and Percival glanced back at him, sharing the concern in his eyes. They both knew Nadder would never give up the girl without a fight. What was he up to?

“Please…” Lyudmila whispered, eyes on Credence. “Help…”

“Yes,” Nadder said with glee, “Credence, she said you would help her. She said you would save her. The old woman even said so. Such faith in you!”

Credence kept his eyes on the girl. “Give her back.”

Nadder’s eyes narrowed and Percival realized what would happen. 

“Avada Kedavra !” The green light flashed briefly, surrounding Lyudmila and she drew a startled breath before she slowly collapsed; as if hit by a sleeping spell.

The Obscurus exploded into being, screaming with Credence’s fury and agony, making the entire building tremble and it kept growing until it covered most of the ceiling of the room.

While the other wizards huddled backwards in fear, Nadder’s smile only widened. He stared at the massive Obscurus and pulled forward a second wand, taking a step forward as well.

Graves stared in horror, wondering if the man had lost whatever remained of his mind, but suddenly he recognized the make of the wand. He’d seen it before. In Italy.

It was the wand that could unleash Grindelwald’s new light attack.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four vs. Nadder!

Theseus saw Percy inhale sharply, worry clear on his face, and then, to Theseus’ shock and terror, the Obscurus came thundering towards them.

Percy spun around to face Theseus, yelling; “Don’t fight it!”

There was not enough time for Theseus to even think about asking him what he meant, because a suffocating darkness came crushing down on him. He desperately gasped for air, panicking when he felt a cold sensation seeping into his veins and stumbled a step backwards once he was completely surrounded by the loud whirlwind of deformed magic. 

He instinctively tried to shut out the darkness and the pressure increased painfully. It was like being strangled by a snake; the harder Theseus struggled, the worse it got! The cold was burrowing into his blood without mercy. 

He suddenly remembered the pictures of Obscurus victims and the marks trailing just under their skin; like ink in their veins.  
Theseus wanted to scream, but he barely got air into his lungs, and even if he could; the darkness swirling around him was so loud…! He was dying.

When hands grabbed him, Theseus was under so much pressure that he barely noticed it. He was pulled into an embrace, against a familiar form, and he automatically grabbed a hold of Percy’s jacket like a drowning man.

One arm went around Theseus’ waist, Percy let his other hand slide into his ginger hair and urged him forward to lean his head on his shoulder. Once he did, he could feel Percy gently stroking his hair in a reassuring gesture, signaling for him to calm down.

-Don’t fight it, he’d said. He’d meant the darkness. Its predatory nature made it dangerously sensitive to movement and something struggling in its grasp was to be devoured.

Focusing on Percy, discovering he _could_ actually breathe as long as he kept calm, Theseus felt the pressure ease up and he shivered with relief. The sound and sensation of the whirling cold surrounding them was still frightful, but it didn’t feel like it wanted to rip his soul out anymore.

Credence. This was the other side to Credence, the corrupted magic that resided in him. It was hard to believe, as this did not feel like the gentle boy at all. This was pure rage and hunger. 

Theseus trembled. He’d never felt this kind of gruesome power! Even when he’d faced it in the basement of this very warehouse, felt it impale his hands and was frightened by its presence, it was nothing compared to being engulfed by it. His entire body was aware of how there was no escape from this darkness, he was trapped, only alive because it allowed it.

Percy clearly felt him tremble and hugged him a little closer.

Why would Credence attack them? It made no sense! 

And if the Obscurus wanted them dead, why weren’t they dead by now?

That was when Theseus realized it was protecting them.

-

From the second Graves saw the wand appear in Nadder’s hand, he knew they were in big trouble. He once again found himself helpless, the second time that day, and Credence was their only hope for survival. 

Perishing didn’t scare him, Graves just didn’t want to, but it tore at his heart; the very idea of Credence or Theseus dying. Yet, all he could do was hold Theseus close, calming him to protect him from the dark magic, and hope Credence could survive the blast that very nearly killed him when he was at full strength.  
Oh, how he hated his!

Hugging Theseus tighter, bracing himself, mentally offering Credence access to any magic inside him, Graves kept his stare at Nadder. 

The Obscurus was loud and agitated in its tight circling of them; no wonder Theseus freaked out.

Percival saw the moment when Grindelwald suddenly apparated behind Nadder. He saw the blond wizard grin, lean forward, and whisper something in Nadder’s ear before he stole both of his wands. Winking in their direction, Grindelwald disapparated.

For a couple of heartbeats, no one moved. Everyone seemed stunned by what had just happened. The other wizards stared from one to another. Nadder’s face was white as a sheet with shock, his eyes wide with disbelief and, yes, a steadily increasing amount of fear.

Graves tapped two of his fingers at Theseus neck, an old trick they’d used during the war, when the explosions were too loud to hear anything but needing to tell the other to be prepared for battle. They would tap the other with two fingers on their arm, shoulder, whatever was within reach, to warn them of imminent action.

Theseus straightened, a Pavlovian reaction to the signal, just as the Obscurus shot towards Nadder with every intent of tearing him apart and Nadder screaming for the wizards to fire at it.

“Windows!” Percival yelled, pulling out his wand. “Now!”

Again, reacting without hesitation, Theseus pulled out his own wand and they fired off several spells to shatter the windows. It took everything Percival had to focus on that task instead of looking over at where he could hear spells being fired and the Obscurus roaring in pain and anger.

No sooner were the windows gone did they turn to attack the wizards defending Nadder and Makarov’s bullets found their marks, making everything a complete chaos. 

Graves ducked under a spell sent his way and sent one in return, trying to work his way closer to the Obscurus. The wizards were managing to keep the massive darkness at bay with a constant barrage of spells, but only barely.

“Percy!” Theseus called out amidst the chaos, pointing. “Door!” 

At the very back of the building, Nadder fled out the emergency exit.

Percival snarled some profanities that would have made most people blush. Hell if the snake was going to get away again! Not after everything he’d done!

And the furious scream from the Obscurus revealed that Credence agreed with him.

Ignoring the spells hitting it, the massive being surged forward with a pained roar and merely rammed its way through the wizards and the emergency door in pursuit of its prey.

-

The building shook as the Obscurus tore down the door and parts of the wall before leaving the fighting behind in its hunt for Nadder, but Graves didn’t really have the chance to take much notice as the remaining wizards had realized they were losing the battle and had started using desperate measures. 

The forbidden curses were now in effect and Graves had to fully focus on dodging and deflecting to stay alive.

Slowly he and Theseus managed to cut down the numbers of wizards, making their way towards the end of the building, but when they finally were the only ones standing; Makarov suddenly apparated next to them.

The Russian was pale, clearly startled. “Come. Hurry.”

“What’s wrong?” Theseus asked, while Percival stepped closer as well.

Makarov reached out and took a firm hold of both of them by their arms and disapparated them without a word. 

They apparated outside the building he’d been in, where there now was a hole in the side of it and billows of smoke came pouring out as the Obscurus was tearing it to pieces. Seconds later, the ceiling of the building erupted when the darkness punched through it. It flew high up in the sky, roaring, before rolling over and diving back down.  
Watching as the Obscurus disappeared into the building again, making it tremble and vomit more dust during its furious search for Nadder, Graves knew the trouble was far from over.

“Merlin’s beard,” Theseus whispered, both frightened by the sight and what it meant. “There is no way they won’t notice this. The Ministry will be here any minute…”

“We have to hurry,” Percival muttered. “He won’t stop before he finds him.” He then let out a harsh laugh. “And neither will I.”

“We go in, we die,” Makarov stated, his eyes on the destruction going on.

“Nadder won’t be in there,” Graves shook his head a little. “He’s a coward. He’ll be cowering somewhere nearby and will try to escape while everyone focuses on Credence.”

“So let’s do a sweep and flush him out before the Ministry arrives,” Theseus suggested, pointing each man in a direction.

They scattered and began searching. Graves could see where Makarov turned a corner and Theseus disappearing between two buildings, but no sign of Nadder!

A minute had passed without results when the southern part of the building collapsed in on itself. The Obscurus dove up in the air once more, screaming with mindless bloodlust, and hovered briefly, growing even bigger, almost as big as the building itself now, before thundering back down.

Percival clenched his jaw hard. They were running out of time! He was very much aware of that the Ministry was probably on its way at that moment and they would have no idea how to handle Credence in this state. If they tried to attack him in this enraged mode…

-

Theseus tried to ignore the sound of the Obscurus demolishing the building next to him and focus on looking for Nadder. It wasn’t easy!

And it was made even harder when he had to throw himself to the ground to avoid being swept along when the wall exploded and the Obscurus came rushing out.

He curled up on the ground, shielding his head from the falling rubble, trying to keep one eye on the Obscurus’ movements as it broke through the wall on the next building. Clearly it was going to tear every structure apart until it found Nadder!

A loud and sharp whistle caught his attention and Theseus glanced up to see Makarov on the other side of the building it had abandoned. He pointed at something before running that way.

Looking in the direction he’d gestured, Theseus saw movement. Nadder! He scrambled to his feet and ran after him as well.

It became a bizarre game of cat and mouse that brought back too many memories from the war for Theseus. He ran amidst smoke and chaos, dodging collapsing buildings and flinching at projectiles shooting by him.

He and Makarov drove Nadder out of the shadows, out of the smoke, and sent him fleeing south; towards the waterfront itself. There, Percy was waiting.

Nadder, pale and breathless, came to a scudding halt and scouted around frantically. Percy in front, Theseus to the left and Makarov to the right, the three had him surrounded and their wands ready to attack while he was wandless.

Theseus could see it, the moment when Nadder gave up, when his shoulders slumped slightly and he breathed a laugh. The fear left his eyes and was replaced with spite. He eyed them all in turn, not bothering to hide his contempt.

“Four of you, one of me, and you got me, congratulations!” Nadder gave a mocking bow.

Percy gave a smile that chilled Theseus to the bone. It was a thing of pure malice. “No way out this time, Nadder. Game over. Time to pay your debt.”

“Fuck you!” Nadder spat, his grin widening. “It was worth it! The old hag, the brat, they both died too quickly!” He took a step towards Percy. “And you, I must say, it was a joy to see you on your knees! Hell, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think the great and infamous Percival Graves was no novice when it came to being on his knees!”

Theseus saw the tiny flinch in Percy despite how he tried to hide it, and rage flooded his veins. He sent off a spell with a flick of his wrist; making Nadder crash to his knees with a pained grunt. “It’s time for you to go away now, Nadder. Permanently.”

Nadder glanced over, brimming with contempt. “You wouldn’t. You don’t have the guts, Scamander.”

“You’re right,” Theseus said, looking over at Percy. “I wouldn’t. Because others have a bigger claim on your life than me.”

Percy gave a little smile, grateful, before his face became emotionless and he called out for Nadder’s doom; “Credence!”

-

There was a loud crash as the Obscurus came bursting out of the building and rushed towards them.  
Coming to a halt to hover above Percival, Graves could feel the rage coming off of it and marveled at its strength. It was truly a miracle!

Nadder glared up at the Obscurus. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

Percival didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“You can kill me, but it won’t change anything,” Nadder laughed. “They’re still dead. I still had you on your knees and made you scream! I won!”

“No,” Percival whispered, “you lose.”

The Obscurus rushed forward, picking up Nadder and the screaming began.

Graves walked over to Theseus, Makarov did the same, and the three looked up at the carnage above them. Percival noted that the Russian looked a little pale and unsettled, but Theseus wore a completely blank expression. 

When a spray of blood hit them all; none of them flinched.

Eventually the screaming stopped and moments later, Nadder’s still form fell into the water.

They watched the ripples for a moment, the Obscurus swirling and growling above them, and then they turned around; only to find themselves facing a minor army of Aurors.

Percival saw them all stare at the Obscurus with horror, several already in a battle stance, and he quickly took a step forward. “Do NOT fire at him! I’m warning you!”  
He was about to get into a battle stance himself, keeping himself between the Obscurus and the Aurors, but then Theseus stepped in front of him as well.

“We have it under control,” he said, sounding almost cheerful. “Everybody just needs to remain calm and no one gets hurt!” Theseus glanced back at Percival. “If he moves, they will shoot. Can he turn back? Now.”

Graves nodded, grateful that Theseus saved the day once again. He turned to focus on the Obscurus, which was dangerously quiet and humming with tension. “Credence,” Percival called out, taking a step towards it. “I know you’re angry, wound up, but I need you to calm down. Do you hear me? Nadder’s dead. It’s over. Come back to me now. I need you to come back.”  
Percival reached out a hand towards the black smoke. “You did it. Regina and Lyudmila are avenged.” He felt a flicker of relief as a black tendril slowly drifted towards his hand and began coiling itself around his arm with a cold touch. “That’s it, my boy. Come back to me.”

He kept talking, gently and constantly reassuring him, and eventually Percival could finally wrap his arms around the young man as Credence sobbed quietly against his shoulder.

Graves saw out of the corner of his eye how Hector Fawley suddenly came marching out from the crowd of Aurors to halt in front of a very tense Theseus and hiss; “What in Morgana’s name were you thinking?” When Theseus tried to answer, Fawley cut him off: “Get out of here! I will talk to you later.” He glared over at Percival and Credence as well. “All of you.”

-

After receiving a sour “And don’t even think about leaving London!” from Fawley, Percival merely glanced over at Theseus. “See you later?”

Theseus wouldn’t look at him, kept staring at the ground, but gave a faint nod.

Graves tightened his grip around Credence a little before he disapparated them back to their apartment. It was a long jump, leaving him somewhat depleted when they apparated, but it was worth it to spare Credence.

While killing Nadder had been kind of a catharsis for Percival, Credence had not stopped crying.

Percival eased him over to the sofa, where they sat down and Credence more or less curled up against him. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing and merely stroke a gentle hand up his back and over his dark hair.

A long silence followed and when Credence finally spoke, it was so quiet that Percival nearly missed it.

“I couldn’t save her… I couldn’t save any of them. They’re dead because of me.”

“They died because of Nadder,” Graves objected softly. “Don’t carry his sins on your back. You can’t control other people’s madness, Credence. This wasn’t your fault.”

“It was.” Credence insisted quietly. “Nadder only targeted them because of me. If they hadn’t come in to contact with me, they’d be alive. So many are dead because of me.”

Percival hesitated, but knew there was a real danger that the guilt might eat Credence alive. “You saved me,” he said. “If I had not met you, I’d be dead by now. Either the job would have killed me, or Grindelwald would have.”

Slowly raising his head, looking up at him with a tear-soaked face, Credence seemed to search his eyes to see if he really meant it, and Percival allowed him to see that he did.

Credence’s eyes brimmed with tears again, but a different kind. He inched even closer, hugging Graves close and hiding his face to his neck. “Thank you…”

“Thank _you_ ,” Percival replied, hugging him close. 

It wasn’t over, far from it, Graves knew that. He knew the guilt would weigh heavily on Credence’s shoulders. He knew that nothing he said could bring Regina or the girl back to life. He knew there would be consequences after what had happened.

But whatever happened, Percival Graves would deal with it.

He would make sure to do whatever it took to get Credence through this. He would pay the price for what they’d done that day and backstab whomever he had to keep them safe.  
If Fawley thought his word was law, that Percival would meekly accept whatever punishment the man decided to throw their way, well, then Percival would have to show him how wrong he was!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to face the consequences of the Waterfront incident...

Sitting on the sofa, staring absently at the empty table, Theseus was completely lost in dark and depressing thoughts when suddenly a light thump woke him from his trance-like state. Blinking confused, he saw a big cup of tea was suddenly on the table in front of him and Theseus had no idea how it had gotten there.

The sound of footsteps made him glance over and he was surprised to see it had been Makarov who had placed the cup there, and who was now settling down in a chair nearby. He had a cup of his own and was pouring an indecent amount of vodka into it.

“You wanted tea?” Theseus asked, embarrassed that he’d zoned out so hard that he’d forgotten that the other man had returned to his apartment with him. “You should have said so. I could have…”

“For you,” Makarov said, putting the cap back on his flask. He glanced over with a faint smile. “Looked like you needed it.”

Even more confused, Theseus stared at the cup in front of him. As strange as it sounded, he wasn’t used to anyone bringing him tea. If someone wanted something, he was usually the one who got it.  
Slowly reaching out, he picked up the cup and took a careful sip. Perfect. Theseus closed his eyes briefly with bliss, able to forget his gloomy thoughts for a second, before sending Makarov a grateful look. “Thank you.”

Shrugging, Makarov drank from his own cup. He savored the strong liquid before focusing on Theseus again. “It will be okay, Seuska. It will.”

“I don’t know,” Theseus sighed, sipping more of his tea. “This is something they’ve never…” He paused, then frowned and glanced back at Makarov. “Seuska?”

Shrugging again, now slightly embarrassed, the Russian stared into his cup. “Your stupid name. Hard to pronounce. Tea-Seus. In Russia, we give nicknames. Seuska. Much better.”

Theseus was surprised to feel a smile creeping on. “Really?” He tilted his head. “So what is your nickname then?”

Wasn’t there a slight flush to his face when Makarov mumbled his reply? “Vasya.”

“Vasya?” Theseus repeated, the smile setting up camp on his face. “Vasya and Seuska… I like it!”

That made Makarov smile as well, looking shy all of a sudden. It was too much for a poor man to resist!

Seven and a half seconds later, they were stumbling through the bedroom door, kissing and tearing at each other’s clothes. Theseus exhaled a laugh when he was more or less shoved back on the bed once there were no more clothes to shed and eagerly welcomed the other man into his embrace.

Now, Theseus knew he’d always been rather vocal between the sheets, but damn if Vasiliy didn’t somehow manage to make him even louder. Flailing with one hand to get a grip on the sheets, Theseus used the other to grope Makarov’s well-built back and urge for more, faster and harder.

When finally, finally, the blessed release rushed through him, Theseus shook helplessly and didn’t stop until Vasiliy had followed him and they were trying to catch their breaths. 

Unfortunately, as his body calmed down, it also meant that the uneasy thoughts slowly came crawling back into his mind. 

He was just about to sneak off to the shower when strong arms pulled him back and kept him close. Getting comfortable on top of that impressive chest, while surprised that Makarov was of the cuddly kind and strangely happy about it, Theseus absently drew a finger along the dip of his stomach muscles. “You know, I’m glad I’m taller than you.”

“What?”

“Otherwise I’d feel like such a wimp next to this,” Theseus mused. “What do they do to you over there in Russia? A hundred sit ups before breakfast? Two hundred pushups after?”

Snorting a laugh, Vasiliy ruffled his hair. “You think too much, Seuska. Shut up. Enjoy moment. This is nice. You nice.” He tried to ignore the horribly smug grin on Theseus face at those words, but eventually he couldn’t stand it anymore and he rolled over to smother it with kisses.

-

Credence slowly glanced up as Graves entered the room. The man was perfectly groomed and ready for battle. The summon to meet with Fawley had left them both uneasy, though Percival tried to hide his reaction, as they had been expected to be called in the day of the incident, not the next.

The night had brought little sleep to them, Credence occasionally jolting awake with the memory of either Lyudmila dying or finding Regina dead, while Graves would just stare at the ceiling and think.

“Ready?” Percival asked.

Fidgeting, shoulders hunched up and head held low, Credence gave a nod.

Graves reached out and placed a finger under Credence’s chin and made him lift his face to look at him. “It’s going to be okay, Credence.” There was a reassuring smile. “I’ll take care of it. I promise.”

Believing him and fearing what it meant, Credence reached out to take a hold of his arm. “Percival… I can’t lose you too. Don’t do anything… rash.”

Graves moved his hand to gently cup the side of Credence’s face. “I’ll take care of it.”

They apparated by the Ministry and headed inside.  
“Go to my office,” Percival said, eyes on the hallway that lead to Fawley’s office. “Wait there, ok?”

“What?” Credence took a hold of the sleeve of his fancy jacket. “But I…”

“Go,” Graves ordered him now, softly, but still an order. “I’ll be back soon.”

Credence watched him leave, broad shouldered and proud as always, and had to fight against the urge to just grab him and run. Run far away from that place and keep running, until they were some place where no one could reach them. Where no one could harm them ever again and they would be safe! But instead he decided to trust Percival to know what to do. 

Sighing with defeat, Credence hunched his shoulders and began shuffling towards Graves’ office.

As he walked, he noted how people he had worked with, had laughed with and gotten to know, were now staring at him with fear. Some were even backing away from him.  
While it broke his heart, it didn’t surprise him. The Aurors had finally seen Credence at his worst, his true self, and naturally they were afraid of him. They should be, considering how many dead bodies were left in his wake. He was a monster and now they knew.

Credence had pretended to be a man for so long now that he had started to believe his own lie.

Shifting his stare to look at nothing but the floor, he avoided lifting it until he was safely inside Percival’s office.  
His eyes were burning with unshed tears and it was hard to breathe. 

Regina… Lyudmila… Mother… Chastity… the MACUSA Aurors… They were all dead because of him. Nadder and his henchmen, Credence wouldn’t lose a minute of sleep over them, but the others…  
Maybe the MACUSA were right? Maybe he shouldn’t be allowed to live? Maybe he was just too dangerous...

Sinking down to sit in Percival’s chair, hands meekly folded in his lap, Credence sat and waited for his punishment with a heavy heart. He deserved whatever they came up with, but he feared that Percival would get into trouble for what he had done as well.

Credence deserved to be punished, but Percival’s only crime was loving a monster.

-

Two hours later, Theseus Scamander entered Hector Fawley’s office.

Hector himself was seated behind his desk and was looking everything but pleased, and with just the two of them there, Theseus felt like he was back at Hogwarts; facing an angry headmaster.  
“What were you thinking, Scamander?” Fawley exclaimed. “Have you lost all common sense?”

“There was no time to report back,” Theseus began. “It was a matter of urgency.”

“Poppycock!” Fawley slammed a hand on his desk. “You decided to go after Nadder on your own. You blatantly disregarded protocol and the bloody Obscurial drew the attention of every Muggle in the area!” His voice was steadily growing louder and angrier. “And as if revealing our presence to the Muggles wasn’t bad enough, you had to drag the Russian into it as well?! I know you are not so foolish as to think he’s not reporting back to his superiors everything we do here!”

Theseus clenched his jaw hard. “I am aware, sir, but…”

“You vouched for Percival Graves, remember?” Fawley raged on. “You personally guaranteed he would be an asset, not a problem, and that the Obscurial could be contained! You gave me your word, Scamander! You even went as far as claiming that Credence Barebone would make a good Auror too!”

“Sir, I…”

“I don’t know what’s come into you, Scamander,” Fawley muttered. “I honestly thought that you would be able to put your feelings aside and act like the professional I’ve always known you to be. That was my mistake. Now I have to clean up your mess; deal with Muggles, handle the renewed requests from the MACUSA for the extraction of Graves and his creature _and_ convince the Russians we are not a bunch of bumbling morons over here. That will be my punishment.” He glared at Theseus. “As for you, I’m taking you off the Grindelwald mission.”

“Sir, you can’t…”

“You’re off the mission and I’m putting you on desk duty for an undecided amount of time. I’m also withdrawing your privileges and you are not to leave London until further notice. Understood?”

The humiliation burned! Theseus managed a tight nod. 

“I hope it was worth it,” Fawley grumbled, staring at him with contempt. “I hope Graves is worth it.”

“Is this all?” Theseus ground out, wanting nothing more than getting the hell out of the office.

Shaking his head, Fawley waved a dismissive hand in his direction. “Get out, Scamander.”

Theseus turned on his heel and marched out. Once outside the door, closing it behind him, he drew a deep, deep breath.

He’d known he wouldn’t be able to dodge the consequences after the mess at the waterfront, but this was even harsher than he’d feared. He’d been demoted, lost the most prestigious mission he’d ever had and was basically put on under house arrest. His reputation would never recover from this…

Theseus swallowed hard, knowing everything he’d worked for was now gone.

-

Walking back to his office, Theseus opened the door and found Makarov inside, reading a letter.  
Feeling a flicker of relief at the mere sight of the man, at least there was something good in all of this, Theseus tried to smile. “Hey.”

Vasiliy glanced up from the letter with a strange expression on his face.

“What is it?” Theseus asked with a sinking feeling in his gut. “What’s wrong?”

“I have been recalled…” Makarov replied in a quiet voice. “Ordered back to Russia. Not to return.”

Surprised, Theseus took a step closer. “What? Why?”

“They say, my mission is over. No more need for me to be here.” He sounded and appeared numb.

“No, wait, that can’t be…” Theseus struggled to find words in the wake of the news. “They can’t just…”

“They can.” Makarov lowered the letter with a sigh and in that moment; the weary expression which had vanished was suddenly back on his face. “They order. I must leave. Now.”

Heart thundering, Theseus took another step closer. He was reluctant to speak the words, remembering too well what happened the last time he dared to expose his heart like this, but he had to try. “You don’t have to. You could stay. Here.” He hesitated. “With me.”

Time seemed to slow down, but then Makarov’s weary expression was replaced with a pained one. “They order. I leave,” he repeated in a whisper.

Theseus nodded, feeling once again the pain of rejection and wondered why he didn’t get into his thick head that he was never quite good enough. He twisted away when Makarov reached out for him, backing up and out of his reach. “Right, okay… Well… Safe journey and all that. It’s been lovely working with you.”

“Seuska…” Makarov let his hand fall. “I am sorry…”

“So am I,” Theseus snapped, then turned and walked out of the room. He didn’t want to hear any more. He didn’t want more explanations and apologies. It wouldn’t change a damn thing.  
It had been a stupid fantasy; that Makarov was different and that things were different this time. 

Percy had been right all those years ago. Better to keep people at a distance. Better to look after yourself, because no one else would.  
Yeah, Theseus Scamander had finally learned his lesson.

He made it back to his apartment. Theseus sank down into his chair and stared at the books and reports on his table, until he couldn’t stand the pressure building inside him anymore and he sent them all flying with one swooping move of his arm.

-

Credence was stunned when he and Graves apparated in Theseus’ apartment. He still could not believe what Graves had told him! Yet, the sight of Theseus slouching in his sofa with a bottle of gin made him snap out of his daze.

“That bad, huh?” Graves said.

Theseus gave a sour smile, lifted the bottle in a mock salute to confirm it and took a gulp.

“We’re leaving,” Percival said.

“Of course you are,” Theseus replied, a slight slur to his voice. He got up and looked at them in turn. “I wish you both the best! Bon voyage!” There was another mock salute and gulp of the gin.

Credence saw the frown on Percival’s face and felt the same. This was not like Theseus at all! “We’re to lie low for a while, let Fawley handle the mess.”

“That’s nice,” Theseus said, moving over to stand in front of them and gesticulating with the bottle. “I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time!” 

Credence inched closer, studying him. Something was definitely off with Theseus. “Are you okay?” He glanced around. “Where is Makarov?”

“Oh, Vasiliy had to go home!” Theseus chirped, spinning around to march back to the sofa. “He sends his regards. Won’t be coming back though. Still, it was fun!” He turned to send them a sardonic smile. “Off you go then! Chop chop!”

Sending a quick glance over at Percival, seeing how disturbed he was at what was happening, Credence took a step towards the Englishman. “Theseus, come with us.”

Theseus breathed a scornful laugh and took another swig of the gin. “No.”

“Why not?”

Stalking forward until he was up in Credence’s face, Theseus ground out the words; “Because I would do something that neither of us would forgive!”

Credence flinched, seeing something dangerously dark and bitter in his eyes, and it took quite a bit of iron will to not back away. “I trust you,” he whispered.

“You shouldn’t!” Theseus snarled, turning and moving away. He paused before twisting to face them again. “Get out. Both of you. Out. Now!”

Percival walked over to him, still with a concerned frown on his face. He reached out both hands, caught Theseus’ face between them, and yanked him into a harsh kiss.  
Theseus made an angry sound, reaching up to grab a hold of Graves’ wrists and tried to pull the hands away to free himself, but he was merely tugged firmer into the kiss. It was only when the fight went out of him and he went slack that Percival released him and backed away.

“We’ll leave,” Percival said, hoarsely. “But, promise me, don’t do it. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Credence saw the darkness had receded in Theseus eyes, but there was still something off about them. “Get out,” the Englishman repeated, and this time; Percival obeyed. Grim faced and jaw clenched, he dragged Credence along with him, despite his stuttered objections.

“What did you mean by ‘anything stupid’?” He asked, once outside.

“I’m sure you noticed his eyes,” Percival replied in a tight voice. “Back in France, during the war, we’d see soldiers with eyes like that. We called it the Stare. It was when a soldier had finally reached his breaking point; he would go and do something stupid and it would end very badly for him.”

Credence glanced back at the door to Theseus apartment. “But we can’t just leave him!”

Shaking his head, Percival made him move along. “There’s nothing we can do. He doesn’t want us here and we can’t force him. It won’t do any good. It’s out of our hands. Fawley only gave us three hours to leave London and England itself, remember?”

-

Two weeks of traveling later, Credence woke up in their rented beach house in Greece. It was in the middle of the night, everything was calm and he could hear nothing but the gentle sound of waves.  
Sitting up, he glanced around and found himself alone in the bed. Again.

Credence sighed and slipped out from between the sheets to put on a robe. He didn’t have to wonder, he knew exactly where he would find him, and walked barefooted out to the porch.

Percival was sitting in his chair, wearing a white shirt with the top buttons undone and black pants. He was staring at the stretch of the beach, as if he was waiting for something… or someone.

Stepping out on the porch, pausing next to him, Credence slid one hand behind Percival’s neck, absently caressing his nape. “You okay…?”

“Yeah.” Graves replied, still staring. “Couldn’t sleep. Sorry.” He reached up and took his hand in his. “Don’t let me keep you up.”

Worried, neither of them had been sleeping well but Graves had barely slept at all since they arrived, Credence settled himself on Percival’s lap and curled up to rest his head on his shoulder. If only there was something he could do to ease his mind…

This was all Credence’s fault, after all. They were hunted by the MACUSA, as well as Grindelwald, and now the British Ministry didn’t want them anywhere near them, all because of Credence. But it was Theseus’ fate that wore on Percival. Graves didn’t mind paying the price for protecting Credence, but he never meant for his friend to get caught in the fire and lose everything.

They sat in silence for a while, until Credence glanced up to see if Percival still had that absent look. He did. So Credence moved up to give him a soft kiss. It felt good so he gave another.

Managing a faint smile against his lips, Percival made a soft sound of approval.

Credence kept kissing him, eventually climbing up to straddle him and dragging out more quiet sighs from the other man. “Come inside,” he coaxed. “Please…?”

Graves’ hands slid down his back and Credence had barely enough time to make a rather undignified squeak when they took a firm hold of his behind as Percival stood up with him. Drawing a sharp breath, Credence instinctively wrapped his legs around his waist in an effort to keep himself from falling, but soon realized that Graves had no trouble holding him up.

Smirking, Percival lifted his face and Credence was more than happy to lean down and engage in more kisses. 

He was carried inside and they sank down on the bed, losing their troubled thoughts to the increasing want in their veins.

Credence found solace in the sensations of the cool sheets against his back, the sound of the waves and the feeling of Graves’ stubbly chin brushing over his skin. He pulled at the white shirt, making Percival sit up to remove it, and reached out to draw his hands down the enticing chest until he could take hold of the beltloops on his pants and pull him back down on him again.

-

Percival’s dark eyes watching him with hunger still made arousal curl up tight in Credence’s stomach. He couldn’t help it! The man’s intense stare made him flustered and shy, even though they had done this plenty times by now. 

Percival’s kisses still stole Credence’s ability to think, his hands felt like they left fire in their wake and Credence could never get enough! 

(It was also fascinating how, despite not spending his days cowering in a church or in the shadows of New York’s skyscrapers, Credence’s skin remained fair compared to Percival’s golden complexion.)

Credence started working on undoing Percival’s pants while Graves pulled the belt of the robe open and pushed the clothing out of his way, revealing what he was hard and aching for.  
With few items of clothing to remove between them, it didn’t take long before there was nothing but skin against skin, hungry mouths and half-choked moans.  
Yes, this was what they needed!

Eventually Percival’s hands and mouth wasn’t enough, so Credence gave him a firm push to make him roll over on his back; leaving him to follow and straddle his waist. 

Breathing hard, Graves placed his hands lightly on Credence’s thighs and kept watching him with those dark eyes of his, but he made no move to control the situation even as his hips twitched restlessly. 

Credence couldn’t help a faint smile. He held up his hand and made Percival say the spell which he’d heard for the first time when they had spent the night together. He then wrapped his now slippery touch around Graves’s cock and the smile widened slightly at the sharp inhale caused by the contact.

He teased him for a little while, stroking and caressing, watching as Percival grew more and more wound up, until he decided it was time and did a far too hasty preparation of himself. 

Sinking down on him, it hurt a little, but that was okay. Credence wanted to hurt. He wanted to feel it the next day. After everything they had been through and lost, he wanted to remember they still had each other.

Percival’s fingers dug into his skin, sweat was making his skin glisten in the moonlight, and Credence began to move. He rolled his hips, raised himself up to slide back down, clenched his muscles and ground down hard; driving them both half crazy with the need for release; black smoke sliding across the sheets and loose objects rattling in the room.

Approaching the end of what he could stand, Percival reached out and wrapped his own hand, covered with a warm, slippery substance, around Credence and began stroking him with every intent of getting him off first. His pride always demanded Credence come first. And Credence didn’t mind, because Percival followed before he had even stopped keening.

Finally, finally, they could rest together, letting the breeze cool their bodies, and wait for sleep. Credence was content, feeling Percival’s fingers gently combing through his hair.

He must have fallen asleep, at least drowsed off, as dawn was barely breaking outside the window the next time Credence opened his eyes.

Sitting up, he glanced around and found himself alone in the bed. Again.

Credence sighed. He didn’t have to wonder where Percival had gone. He knew exactly where he would find him; on the porch, scouting for something to signal it was okay to be happy again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A word of warning, approaching the end here, people! The way things are looking right now, I'd say one more chapter and then an epilogue. I'm trying to find the right moment to end things before the story becomes boring...! Would appreciate some feedback if you are ready to move on from this universe or not!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A desolate beach house in Greece gets visitors...

  
[](https://imgbb.com/)  


It had been three weeks since Percy and Credence left England. Three weeks of unholy amounts of gin, odds looks and nothing but checking and filling out reports. Fawley ignored him completely.

Theseus was currently staring at the letter he’d received that morning. It was the third of its kind in as many weeks. In the previous letters, Credence’s graceful handwriting had described his and Graves’ nonstop traveling, but now it revealed that they had temporarily settled down in Greece. Credence wrote that they missed him, hoped he was doing okay and even added the address where he could find them.

Silly boy. Theseus slowly crumpled the letter in his hand, just like he’d done with the other two. Clearly Graves had no idea that Credence had written this, or he would have prevented him from giving up their location. What if the letter had gotten into the wrong hands? Still, it wasn’t his problem anymore.

The paper caught fire after a whispered spell and he dropped it into his trash can. He didn’t care.

Theseus then sighed and tried focus on his work, hoping it could distract him.

Maybe he should consider a vacation too? To the nearest pub and drink himself into oblivion.

Theseus picked up a report, but merely skimmed through the content as he lacked any real motivation. Nothing he did would make a difference anyway. 

He heard a knock on his door and someone entered his office, closing the door behind them, but he was in no real hurry to look up. Junior Aurors came to him these days for advice or a second pair of eyes on their reports. After a moment, when nothing was said, he raised his gaze from the papers.

Standing just inside the door, Makarov was watching him with just the faintest touch of a smile. The Russian wasn’t in his uniform anymore but wearing civilian clothes. He was holding a big army duffle bag by a tense grip on its strap over his shoulder. 

Theseus could only stare, struggling to believe his own eyes. What was going on?

Makarov cleared his throat and hoisted his duffle bag a little. “I, uhm, I quit.”

Theseus shot to his feet and rushed towards him while Makarov dropped the bag to the floor to have his arms free, and they ended up into a fierce embrace. 

Theseus exhaled a laugh against Makarov’s strong neck, refusing to let him go and act like a dignified and sane person. “You’re back? You actually came back?”

Equally reluctant to let go of him, Makarov nodded.

Theseus knew this meant Vasiliy had given up a hell of a lot to come back to London. He felt a little dizzy at the mere thought that anyone would bother sacrificing anything for him; much less an entire career and their homeland. “Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely,” Makarov stated. “Lyubov moya.”

“I see I have to learn Russian,” Theseus declared, still dizzy with disbelief, before he moved to kiss away the smirk on Makarov’s lips. “I can’t believe you’re here…”

And, just like that, Theseus began to hope again.

-

Credence was preparing some ice tea in the kitchen when he heard Graves calling out his name. While there was urgency in his voice; there was no fear, but Credence still dropped what was in his hands and ran out to the porch.

He came bursting out the door to find Percival staring out at the stretch of beach, but this time; Credence saw two people walking towards the beach house. It didn’t even take him a full heartbeat before he recognized Theseus and Makarov.  
Exhaling a happy laugh, Credence glanced briefly up at Percival, thrilled to see the weight off his shoulders and the relief in his eyes as well, before he ran to meet the two newcomers.

Theseus and Makarov were carrying a bag each, but the Englishman carelessly dropped his and hurried to meet Credence. Hugging Credence close, Theseus leaned down to whisper in his ear.  
“I’m so sorry. About last time. I…”

“You got absolutely nothing to apologize for,” Credence insisted, squeezing him tight for a moment. “I’m just so happy you’re here!” He straightened slightly to look over at Makarov. “Both of you.”

Having picked up Theseus’ bag as he followed at his own pace, Makarov stopped in front of him and gave a faint, but genuine smile. “Good to be here.” The smile faded into dry annoyance as Theseus slid by Credence to approach Percival, who had decided to meet them with a dignified walk instead of a sprint.

Theseus and Percival both reached out and cupped the other’s face, leaning in to rest their foreheads against each other, closing their eyes for a moment.

“You okay with that?” Makarov drawled, nodding towards them.

Credence nodded with a touch of an affectionate smile. “It’s a package deal, I’m afraid. If you love one, you get the other guarding his well-being. But don’t you worry,” he moved over and put his arm through his, “you can trust them. Now, do you like ice tea?” He nudged him towards the house.

Sighing, Makarov looked like he was reminding himself that he had chosen to return to the insanity voluntarily and could only blame himself. “Ice tea. Sounds good.”

“Theseus said you had gone back to Russia,” Credence said, relieving him off Theseus’ bag with his free hand, and they started walking back towards the beach house. “So, what happened, Captain?”

Makarov shook his head. “Not Captain anymore.” He shrugged. “I quit. Everything was… different.”

Surprised to hear that the man had quit, having sensed how much the military meant to him, Credence also felt happy at knowing how much Makarov valued Theseus. “I understand. But you know he’s worth it, Makarov.”

“Yes,” was the reply, along with a quick glance at Theseus before he focused on Credence again, and actually smiled. “And, please, my name is Vasiliy. Or Vasya.”

-

Percival was back on his porch, looking out on the beach. The difference now was the tight knot of anxiety in the pit of his stomach was gone and there were shrieks of laughter coming from the water.

Returning to the house, Theseus had been in awe over the modest building on the desolate beach (Honestly, the man needed to raise his standards in life, Graves thought.), while Makarov kept mostly quiet. (Thank Merlin.) They talked briefly, catching up, and Percival was shocked to hear that Theseus had told Fawley that he would be taking his vacation days. All of them. And seeing how he had not taken one in… ever, there were plenty to be had. He even took great relish in describing Fawley’s face when Theseus had finished by saying that once the vacation was over, he would _consider_ whether to return or not.

Credence had fluttered around them, bringing his last horrid experiment of sugary ice tea. Percival would not touch the abomination, but Theseus drank it with glee and Makarov, as usual, poisoned it with vodka before sipping at it and adding even more.

It didn’t take long before Theseus, like a toddler on a sugar rush, insisted on trying out the beach. He claimed he’d only seen beaches like this in books or on postcards, and Credence was more than eager to show him. 

The two had shifted into swimming gear and headed down to the water, leaving Graves to his favorite spot on the porch. It would have been close to perfect, if not for the quiet presence of the Russian on the other side of the porch. (It seemed like he was as fond of Percival’s presence as he was of his. Good.)

Watching how Credence and Theseus’ water war had gone from splashing to them summoning their wands and was now getting creative with waves and columns, Percival finally spoke to Makarov. “So, what are your plans?”

Makarov sent him a brief look before focusing on the ones in the water again. “Travel a little. See world. After that…”

Percival glanced over, not liking the pause. 

Sighing, Makarov shrugged. “He wants hunt Grindewald.”

“On his own?” Graves sat up, unsettled. “That’s suicide.”

“Is it?” The Russian smiled a little. “If anyone can, I think he can. No Ministry, no rules. I will help.”

Leaning back again, Graves fell silent, considering it. He glanced over when Credence and Theseus began calling their names, insisting they’d join them.  
There was no surprise merely fond resignation in Credence’s eyes when Percival shook his head; he was far too old and dignified to act like a teenager, not to mention how it would mess up his hair.

Makarov sent Graves a condescending look though, and Percival was the one to be surprised when the Russian demonstratively began opening his shirt and soon headed down to join them.

Remaining in his seat, Percival watched as the three acted like children. He listened to them laughing and jeering each other, observed when Makarov bent down and straightened with Credence on his shoulders, making Theseus exclaim accusations of treachery and unfair odds.  
It was like shedding the Ministry had made them shed years. No more rules or regulations. They had lost the safety of numbers, but they had gained their freedom. They were acting like idiots.

Watching them from his perch, Percival wasn’t aware of how he was wearing a fond smile.

-

When evening crept upon them, they retreated inside the beach house again. Percival rolled his eyes a little at Credence’s continued fluttering around; now insisting on conjuring up a meal for kings, but it was good to see him happy again. So very good.

And it was a relief to see Theseus back to his old self as well! Graves never wanted to see that dark look in his eyes again. It was like staring into a mirror and while Percival was not a good man; Theseus was, and had to remain that for the world to be worth saving.

So, yeah, while it was a bit too lively for his taste, Percival still found things to be a vast improvement. He even deigned to share his whiskey with them. 

Credence couldn’t hold his liquor, as always, but Theseus was clearly exhausted from the day as he didn’t fare much better. It didn’t take long before the two were asleep in the main bedroom. Credence was curled up on his side, his back towards Theseus with a clingy hold on his arms, as the Englishman was impersonating a squid in turn and was fast asleep behind him. 

Makarov did not seem fazed by the strong alcohol at all, but then again, with the amount of vodka he consumed at all hours; he was probably immune.

Percival looked in on the sleeping duo a final time, making sure all was well, and then headed back to the kitchen and the Russian there.  
Makarov was currently staring out the window, admiring the sight of the moonlight playing on the water, with a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand.  
Sitting down by the table, Percival sent the man a thoughtful look. 

As if he could sense he was being watched, Makarov sent him a narrow-eyed glance and muttered a; “What?”

“Why did you come back?” Percival asked, making no effort to hide the suspicion in his voice. “You got recalled, you left, and all of a sudden; you appear again. Why? Did they send you back? Are you on a mission?”

Huffing, Makarov moved over to sit down on the chair opposite of Percival, meeting his stare straight on. “I told you; I quit.”

“Yeah, that’s a nice and tidy story. I’m asking you; is it true? Are you expecting me to believe you quit, just like that? Why throw away everything you’ve worked for?”

Makarov clenched his jaw for a moment and Graves knew it was to rein in his temper and remain calm. He eventually exhaled before answering; “They said I could not go back, but everything was different. I was different. He changed… things. They still would not let me go back, so I quit.”

As much as he didn’t like the idea of Makarov anywhere near his Theseus, Percival poured himself some whiskey and then added some to the Russian’s glass as well. “Theseus is a close friend of mine. I won’t let you hurt him again.”

“You mean, like you did?” Makarov asked, taking a sip of the whiskey.

Now it was Percival’s turn to clench his jaw to hold on to his temper before speaking. “Hurt him and I will tear your spleen out.” It was no empty threat.

Nodding amiably, Makarov downed the rest of his whiskey. (And didn’t even wince at the burn, the show off!) “Deal.” He met his stare again. “And same goes for you. You have power over him and you know it. Use it wisely or you will regret.” That was no empty threat either.

Percival Graves raised an eyebrow. Well, this could get interesting!

-

Credence was the first to wake up the next morning. He laughed a little at Theseus telling him to save himself and leave him to die when asked whether or not he wanted breakfast. Graves was clearly hung over, pale and cranky when he emerged, while Makarov seemed as unfazed as Credence and announced he had to do his morning exercise first.

Percival and Theseus both had their little work out routine they usually did. That was nothing compared to what Vasiliy put himself through, Credence concluded, watching him from where he was having his coffee and toast on the porch. 

After a while, Percival stepped outside to join Credence, clinging to his coffee like a lifesaver.  
They watched in silence for a while until Percival shook his head with a sigh. “The man is clearly insane.”

Credence hid his grin behind his cup. “Weren’t you the one who underlined how important it is to stay in shape?”

Scoffing, Graves sank down on a seat next to his. “There is staying in shape and then there is that; crazy.” He cleared his throat, “I need to ask you something.”

Hearing the serious tone to his voice, Credence instantly sat up and sent him a nervous look. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Percival reassured. “Right now, nothing at all.” He then sighed. “I talked to the Russian last night. He told me that Theseus is planning to go after Grindelwald without the Ministry.”

“What? Seriously?” Credence stuttered to find a way to express all the thoughts running through his head at that moment and every one of them questioned Theseus’ mental state. “Can’t you talk him out of it?!

“I doubt it,” Percival admitted reluctantly. “Part of it is to prove to Fawley that he was wrong to take him off the case, which I could have talked him out of, but then there is also the fact that Scamander is a good old fashioned hero. Grindelwald is a threat to everything he’s been brainwashed to believe in, so he has to save the day and protect the little people.”

“Sometimes you can’t protect people, no matter how hard you try,” Credence mumbled, something recently learned through bitter experience. “You try and you just make an even bigger mess.”

Percival reached out and took a hold of his hand to give it a gentle squeeze. “Blaming yourself for something that wasn’t your fault isn’t going to improve things either…”

Credence nodded, but had a sneaking feeling he’d never forgive himself for what happened to Regina Broadchurch and little Lyudmila. He made himself snap out of his gloom. “You said you wanted to ask me something? You want to help him, don’t you?”

“I want to make sure he doesn’t get himself killed.”

And was what family did, wasn’t it? They looked after each other! Credence squeezed his hand back. “You and me both. Let’s do it.”  
Grindelwald had helped them in the fight against Nadder, but Credence knew he would eventually come after them again. It was in his covetous nature.

-

Theseus and Makarov stayed for two days. Enough for Theseus to regain his strength after three weeks of barely sleeping and discovering how much gin he could devour in a day before passing out, and enough for Makarov to stop waiting for Russian Aurors to pop out of the woodwork and drag him home.

“Are you guys sure?” Credence asked, for the fifth time, as the four of them were standing in front of the stairs leading up to the porch and saying their goodbyes. 

“Take care of yourself,” Theseus instructed with a faint smile, hugging him close to remove the sad expression on his face. “And keep an eye on that guy over there. Okay?” He nodded towards Percy.

Credence tried to smile and nodded.

As the boy turned to Makarov, Theseus turned his attention to Percy. “I’ll send you an owl, alright?” He’d made Theseus promise to include him and Credence before he made his move on Grindelwald. 

“You’d better, Scamander, or Gellert will have to get in line to kick your ass.” Percy moved closer, reaching up to take a light hold of Theseus’ chin between his index finger and his thumb. “Be careful out there.”

Theseus swallowed hard, suddenly struggling to remember how to speak as he became keenly aware of the last time Percy had been this close. While he had no memory of what had happened at St. Mungo’s, he remembered every tiny detail of the sensation when Percy had kissed him before leaving London. 

Smirking, Percy leaned even closer to murmur by his ear. “Or you could just dump that idiot some place and come back here.”

Exhaling a shaky laugh, Theseus felt himself flush. “Shut your gob, Percival Graves.” He avoided his eyes and leaned in for a final hug. It was truly bittersweet to feel him so close, to feel those arms go around him, but then Theseus withdrew and found Percy and Makarov glaring at each other over his shoulder and it felt a little better to know that Percy was the one who struggled with a sting of jealousy this time. 

Meeting Credence’s amused gaze, Theseus gave him an eye-roll to signal his opinion of the silly alpha-male behavior exhibited by both Percy and Vasiliy and they shared a final laugh.  
He picked up his bag and took a couple of steps away with Makarov by his side before turning back one more time. Theseus pulled out the small necklace Percy had given him. “And remember, this works both ways. If you need our help…”

Credence’s eyes watered slightly. “Family look after each other…”

“That’s right,” Theseus confirmed softly. 

Leaving the beach house and the two behind, it was another thing of mixed emotions. Theseus found it painfully hard to walk away, but at the same time; he was also looking forward to travel and see the world without limitations or work looming over his head.

In addition, he glanced over at the man next to him, he was looking forward to learning all there was to know about Vasiliy Makarov.

As if he could hear his thoughts, Vasiliy sent him a small but genuine smile and Theseus had no trouble returning it with one of his own shameless ones. Yes, he was looking forward to this!

-

Percival had to force his eyes off the duo heading away and focused on Credence instead.

The young man looked utterly depressed again and it ruffled Graves’ feathers the wrong way.

Stepping in front of him, blocking Credence’s view of Theseus and Makarov, Percival sent him a probing stare. “You seem awfully upset at them leaving. In fact, I couldn’t help but to notice that you’ve become awfully close to Theseus. Hell, you even spent the night in bed with him, which is more than I can say. Should I be worried?”

Credence flushed a deep red, just like he knew he would, but there was a flicker of defiance in the dark eyes as he stared back. “Maybe. He’s a lot nicer than you.”

Percival bared his teeth more than he smiled, reaching out to slide a hand behind Credence’s neck and yank him close. “Ah, but, Credence…” He put all of his authority into his voice, “you don’t want nice, do you?”

Staring wide eyed, caught between the harsh grip behind his neck and the unmoving body in front of him, Credence shivered in a primitive and thrilled reaction to him. “I… Sometimes?”

Holding him still by the grip on his neck, Percival moved in for a kiss. Pushing at Credence’s lips and feeling the plump softness give in, he didn’t wait for the younger man to catch up before easing off and moving back for another kiss that made him part those lovely lips and allowed for a deeper attack. There was nothing nice about these deep, wet, hungry kisses. It was the kind of kissing that would have made Mary Lou cross herself and other parents to cover their children’s eyes. 

Hearing a faint, almost nasal whine from Credence, Graves pulled back with a smirk while Credence’s fingers scrabbled for a grip on Percival’s upper arms in an effort to urge him back, even as the younger man was softly gasping for air with a trembling mouth.

“I haven’t had you to myself for three days now, Credence. I fully intend to reclaim that time for the rest of the day,” Percival said, no, promised.

Flustered and almost nervous, knowing too well how stubborn Graves could be about drawing things out or making him beg, Credence still managed a wobbly smile. 

Percival smiled as well, not a very nice one, and stole one more kiss, cupping Credence’s face with both hands and ending it with a bite to his lower lip. “Get inside the house,” he ordered.

Credence did not hesitate to obey.

Lingering a few seconds longer, savoring the anticipation and casting a final glance in the direction of the two who were leaving, Percival then went in to Credence and was satisfied to find him sitting on the bed, waiting for him. The smile widened even more as he noted how Credence’s fingers were digging into the sheets to ground himself with the faintest flickers of the Obscurus surrounding him, and he hadn’t even really touched him yet!

He decided to correct that at once.

[ ](https://ibb.co/hrovX5)


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months later...

_Six months later;_  
Vasiliy hung his head low, coughing a couple of times before spitting out the blood in his mouth. The last punch had split the inside of his lip against his teeth. It wasn’t really painful, he’d had far worse, but it was annoying.

Lifting his face, he sent his captor the silent, blank stare that he’d given him since he’d woken up in that room. The lack of any kind of response other than that stare had quickly driven the man to violence and threats. Pathetic, really. These Westerners had no idea how to interrogate people.

The last thing Vasiliy remembered was following up a clue on his own about a magical artifact that Grindelwald was said to be after. He had been talking to a dealer in illegal artifacts in some dank alley and then he’d been hit by… something. Waking up in an unfamiliar place with a stranger hovering over him and no wand, Makarov braced himself for the worst, but once it became clear that this was not related to Grindelwald; he was more irritated than frightened.

“Just imagine how thrilled I was when I learned you lot were here!” Makarov’s captor said, a middle-aged and dark haired man, laughing a little. “It was almost too good to be true! I swore Theseus Scamander wouldn’t get away with sending my brother to prison and finally I get to deliver on that promise!” He leaned down to glare at the impassive stare. “And I’m going to wipe that look off your face!”

Better men had tried and failed.

The door to the room opened and a woman stuck her head in. “He’s here!”

Makarov kept his neutral expression, but there was a jolt of… something that went through him. He did not believe for one second that this fool could hurt Seuska, but fortune was a fickle thing and he’d rather not risk it.

“Bring him in!” His captor crowed.

Moments later, there he was; Theseus Scamander came walking through the door. He did not seem any more pleased about the situation than Makarov himself was. But then, and maybe Vasiliy was just conjuring up what he wanted to see, it looked like there was a flicker of pure rage in Seuska’s eyes at the sight of Makarov’s bloodied face.

“You’re going to regret this,” Theseus said, and there was no mistaking the anger in his voice at least.

Vasiliy’s captor laughed out loud. “I sincerely doubt that!” He reached out to place a deceptively friendly hand on Makarov’s shoulder. “You are the one who is going to regret things, Scamander. You are going to regret sending my brother to prison. You are going to feel what it is like to lose a loved one!”

He probably should have been worried about the death threat, but instead Vasiliy was morbidly fascinated by the blood lust in Seuska’s expression. It was so rare to see him like this… It took a lot to bring out the dark side of Theseus Scamander!

A loud crash from the neighboring room caught the captor’s attention and the man had just enough time to look confused and call out; “What is going on, Vi?” before the door opened and Percival Graves came sauntering in.

-

Percival was pleased to see the idiot who had run off with Makarov go pale and deflate at the very sight of him, but he was not happy to see that the Russian was tied up on a chair and bleeding.

The idiot held up both hands defensively and cried out; “I didn’t touch Barebone! I didn’t go near him!”

“I know,” Graves said.

The building began to shake, things rattled and fell off shelves, and black smoke began to creep into the room from underneath the door, from the ceiling and through cracks in the window. When there was enough darkness, Credence materialized from the waist up inside it, hovering near Percival with murder in his white eyes, and Graves almost smiled as Makarov’s captor took a step back with a whimper.

“The thing is,” Percival declared in an iron voice, “while I would gut you for putting your filthy hands anywhere near Credence Barebone, it’s not only him. What you need to understand is that all these three people belong to me. They’re all mine.” He smirked. “Including that tiny Russian.”

Makarov twitched angrily in his seat and spat some furious phrases in Russian.

Percival kept his eyes on the trembling stranger while the darkness coiled its way up the leg of Makarov’s chair and eventually reached the magic bounds around his wrists. It took hardly an effort to break the restraints. “I told your assistant to spread the rumor about what happens to the ones who messes with us. Any of us.”

“And,” the man gulped, sending the Russian a nervous glance as dark tendrils helped him get up on his feet, “what happens to them…?”

Graves waited until Credence had guided Makarov out of the room and the darkness was receding before he answered; “They die, of course.” And with that, he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

He could almost picture the disbelief on the man’s face, the confused relief taking its place on his face, until he heard movement and realized who had not left the room and whom he was now trapped with.

Outside the building, Credence was back to his human form and was healing Makarov when Graves joined them. The Russian huffed and tried to decline help, insisting he was fine, and Credence ignored him.  
None of them reacted to the sounds coming from the building.

And when Theseus finally joined them, no one commented on the blood on him. He was allowed a few moments where he made sure Makarov was indeed alright and mumbled deflected apologies between kisses before Percival cleared his throat to signal that it was enough of that in public.

“So…” Credence said, tense with the anger he’d felt at the man which had gotten no release, “what do we do now? I’m all riled up.”

Theseus pulled out his wand and got rid of the blood with a cleaning spell. “I suggest an orgy!”

Credence’s face turned crimson as he squeaked; “What?!”

Shrugging, Theseus grinned. “I’m just saying, everyone thinks we’re at it anyways!” He nudged his shoulder at Makarov. “And we seriously need to do something about this unresolved sexual tension between Vasya and Percy!”

Makarov went white with fury, hissing in Russian again. Percival laughed.

-

From across the street, hidden in shadows, two men were watching them as they walked away.

Wane Bathory studied each man in turn, curiously. “Why is he so set on them?”

Bored, Scar turned away and focused his attention to the black snake drowsily peeking out from where he’d put it in his jacket pocket earlier. He gave a little shrug and stroked a finger over the reptile’s head in an affectionate gesture. “Who knows? And who cares?”

Wane, a man who was easily dismissed as pretty instead of dangerous due to his looks with curly, brown hair and puppy eyes that changed color according to the light, kept his focus on the four. “He doesn’t do anything without a purpose.”

Shrugging again, Scar kept his concentration on the snake. His eyes and hair were as black as the snake. Despite his name, his pale skin was perfectly unmarked. “So ask him.”

“Do you think he’ll actually answer?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Grindelwald’s voice suddenly said, making both men turn their gaze towards where he’d apparated behind them.

“Because the only thing you adore as much as creating havoc, are your little secrets,” Wane declared in a flat voice.

Grindelwald let out a soft laugh, like a boy caught at something naughty. “That is true.” He glanced over at the backs of the four men ignorant of their presence. “I can only tell you that I have plans for them. Will that suffice?”

“I hear Albus Dumbledore has gotten involved in the hunt for you,” Wane replied.

A flash of anger could be seen on Grindelwald’s face before he managed to regain his regular sly look. “Don’t worry about Dumbledore. I’ll handle him.” He turned to Scar. “How are my dragons?”

Finally a topic that interested him. Scar flicked his black eyes up from the snake to Grindelwald. “Growing.” He then added, “The basilisks are expected to hatch this week too.”

“Excellent,” Grindelwald sounded as smug as he looked. 

Scar smiled a little as well, reminding Wane of the snake he was petting.

“And you,” Grindelwald turned back to Wane, “You claimed you could get me whatever I wanted. Can you bring me them?”

Wane didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” He had yet to fail and he had every confidence in his skills.

“Then I will see you again when you bring me Percival and his little band of misfits,” Grindelwald took a step backwards and disapparated.

Turning to look in the direction where the four men had now disappeared, Wane sighed. "Theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die," he quoted softly.

“Well, that’s optimistic,” Scar drawled, poking the snake’s head down into his pocket again.

“We got work to do,” Wane replied.

The two disapparated and silence filled the shadows in their place.

[](https://ibb.co/h8kDKk)   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, no big surprise, there will be a part 5! :P Be prepared for the final Culmination, coming to AO3 sooooon!


End file.
